Ruined Relations
by Bralt
Summary: It started fine, one of those families that seemed right but it changed. Halt didn't realize until it was too late that it changed and he regrets his mistake, it's ruined him. Now he has a chance to fix it but can it still be fixed? Same story as the last time I posted, just fixed up
1. Chapter 1

**Okay this is the last time I am redoing the prologue, I just needed to add something to it and I fixed up a few of Halt's reactions here and there**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Ranger's Apprentice or any of it's characters**

**P.S. Braltfan, if you are reading this you made my day with that name you sign your reviews as:D**

Halt looked around the command tent where three of his closest friends were gathered. Crowley was seated at his desk with coffee while Gilan and Will were standing across from him. All were looking at Halt expectantly but patient. He had called the trio to the tent under the pretense that he had something important to tell them. The Ranger took a deep breath and looked at the questioning faces.

"Before I left Redmont to come to the Gathering, Pauline and I received some…news," he started. Will went to interject with a question but Halt stopped him with a look. "It seems that Pauline's going to have a kid," he said as if it were no big deal. As the words came, he couldn't help the small grin that came with them.

Crowley, who hadn't expected something like this, choked on his coffee and started coughing uncontrollably. Will looked at his mentor with wide eyes and for once he found himself speechless. Gilan, though shocked beyond words, couldn't help his wide smile. He also couldn't help the mock groan that came out of him. Halt looked at him with a raised brow.

"So now we're going to have a little Halt running around?" he moaned. Will smiled and gave a small laugh.

"So help us," the young man said. This time Crowley gave a laugh as well. Halt looked at them all questioningly.

"And what's wrong with another me?" he asked in a tone that told them not to answer. He was glad to see his voice was a bit menacing.

"Oh Halt, I don't think Araluen can survive another you. Duncan's already got a head of grey from you. Not to mention us; we've had a rough time keeping you out of trouble. You're like a loose cannon and Ranger's shouldn't be that way," Gilan, ever the daredevil, said. The trio laughed again and Halt felt it time to ruin their fun.

"Araluen needs more Rangers like me," Halt stated in a defending voice. "Especially when the Corps has dolts like you all," he said.

After a few more remarks, Will and Gilan decided it was about time to go back to their tents.

"Congratulations Halt, I'm sure you'll be a great dad," Gilan said seriously as he left. Little did he know that his words were comforting to Halt who was a bit concerned about the future prospect of raising a child.

"He's right Halt. Don't worry," said Crowley. He had heard the very slight nervousness in his friend's tone though the others hadn't. And he knew what it was for as well. "With a father like you, that kid is going to be perfectly fine," he added.

"I hope so," Halt responded. "If he ends up anything like Gilan then I'm going to have to retire sooner than I want."

* * *

_**Around seven months later**_

"Come on Halt; you're just getting in their way," Rodney said from the door to the room.

Halt looked up from his wife at the few people bustling around. To his disappointment, he saw that Rodney was right. The Ranger looked to Alyss who sat on Pauline's right. She smiled reassuringly at him.

"I'll make sure she's fine," the girl promised.

Halt shifted his gaze back to Pauline who smiled at him as well. He kissed her hand softly before rising and following Rodney out the door. Outside sitting in the corridor were Arald, Crowley and Will. Gilan had wanted to be there as well but the event couldn't have been precisely dictated and his Ranger duties had kept him away. Crowley, much to Halt's annoyance and relief, had arrived a month earlier and stayed. Now Rodney joined the tired group sitting while Halt started to pace. It seemed to take forever but , just as Halt was about ready to barge in of his own accord, Alyss came out of the room. Halt was at her side almost immediately. The young courier was smiling and he took that as a good sign.

"Is she okay?" Halt questioned, abandoning his normal unconcerned appearance.

Alyss nodded and motioned for Halt to follow. The Ranger did so, leaving his dozing friends in the hall. Inside the few helpers were standing around the bed, blocking Pauline from his view. A little rudely, Halt shoved past them so he was at his wife's side. She smiled up at him and he released a pent up breath. Something about seeing her happy dismissed his fears. She was holding a bundle in her arms and Halt could hear the small sobs.

"It's a boy," she said softly as she held the wrapped bundle up to Halt. He took it from her carefully. The crying stopped somewhat as the small child saw Halt.

Looking up at the old Ranger was a unique set of eyes. One eye was a deep brown like Halt's whereas the other was Pauline's brilliant grey. The eyes were filled with cheer and the small child's mouth curled into a smile. Halt smiled proudly back and gave an inaudible laugh as the baby grabbed his finger.

"What's his name?" Alyss asked curiously. Pauline looked to Halt who was still smiling down at the newborn.

"Conlan," he said quietly. "Conlan O'Carrick."

* * *

_**Five years later**_

"Daddy?" Conlan asked from his seat on the grass. Halt looked down from grooming Abelard. The boy was almost exactly like a young Halt in appearance with jet black hair and a small figure. Even his voice was like Halt's, only missing the slight burr of his Hibernian accent. Halt raised an eyebrow. "Do you love me?" Conlan asked.

Halt frowned. He knew it was a question that children asked at least in once in their life but he was caught a bit off guard. Halt scooped the boy up in his arms. Despite his age, Halt was still considerably strong from his life as a Ranger. Conlan giggled and struggled to get free but Halt held onto him.

"Why are you asking something like that?" Halt asked, mostly because he didn't want to respond.

"Because you never here," Conlan answered with a bit of a sad face. Halt felt uneasy at that, he didn't like seeing Conlan upset but it was true, Ranger duties took him away from his family for substantial periods.

"Yes. I love you Conlan. Don't ever forget that," Halt said in a serious tone. Conlan was perhaps the only person he knew that could get him to admit something like that. It surprised Halt how soft he was when it came to the youth.

"Really daddy?" the child persisted.

"Yes," Halt answered and jokingly held the boy upside down. It was odd for the grizzled man to be so playful and loving but that was just what a kid could do to you. Pauline smiled from nearby where she had watched the exchange. The two were about as close as they could be.

* * *

_**Six years later**_

Conlan watched as Halt rode away from the castle. Halt had only been home for around a month from his last mission and Conlan was just getting used to how things were with his father back. He was even enjoying Halt's company again. Today they were going to go out to the forest and, against Pauline's wish; Halt was going to teach him how to shoot a bow. They had been about to leave when Halt had received an urgent message and had had to leave. Conlan was still angry about it. He hated when Ranger duties got in the way and forced Halt to leave. It had happened all too often.

"He'll be back soon," Pauline said behind him. Conlan turned.

"Yea, just so he can leave again," Conlan huffed as he started back towards their apartment.

* * *

_**Five years later**_

Halt walked up behind a thirteen year old Conlan who sat on the bank of the river that ran by Wensley village. He had just come home from a visit with Will at the cabin and Pauline had told him of how Conlan had been acting odd. It had taken a while but eventually Halt had found him. Halt took a seat beside his son who gave no sign of acknowledgement. Conlan just continued to stare into the water that rushed by. Eventually Halt spoke.

"Your mother said you've been acting weird lately," he said.

"How would you know? You're never around. Always off chasing bandits or fixing up some old treaty. And if you're not doing that then you're with Will," Conlan answered acidly after a pause. Halt suddenly realized what this was about. He didn't know how to reply though.

"It's my job. I can't help it," Halt replied reasonably, choosing to ignore the comment about Will.

"Of course it is," Conlan said gruffly. Halt stayed silent. "You only came down here to see me because mom told you about me," he added.

"I came down here because I was worried about you," Halt said back.

"You didn't seem to worry before she told you," he shot back angrily.

"That's because I can't read minds." Conlan had heard enough. He stood angrily and started to walk away. "Wait," Halt said as he stood up.

"No!" Conlan shouted as he turned back. "I've waited for you to come back all my life. Just leave me alone!" he yelled and stormed off towards the village. Halt caught up with him after a few steps and spun him around.

"Watch who you're talking to," Halt snarled. "I was just trying to help."

"And how did that work out?" Conlan spat and sprinted away.

* * *

_**One year later**_

Conlan stared at the older boys laughing and having a good time underneath a nearby tree. It was market day and Halt was off on a mission. Again. Pauline had made him get out of the apartment because he had been in a grouchy mood. Deciding that it was pointless to stand there and stare at the boys, he made his way towards them. When they saw him, the laughter died and they watched as he made progress towards them.

"Well if it isn't the leprechaun," sneered one of the boys. He was tall and muscular with brown hair and green eyes. Conlan recognized him as one of the nobleman's sons. Being a nobleman's son, he had started training to be a knight a year before. Conlan stopped when he was a meter away from him. Many of the boys that mocked him had taken to calling him leprechaun because of his size and Halt's heritage. "Why aren't you running around with daddy in the shadows?" he teased. Conlan felt his easy temper rising. The other boys had gathered behind the talker and were watching with interest. A few were farmer's kids and they looked uneasy.

"He's not here," Conlan replied curtly. He was starting to regret coming over to the group.

"Oh, he left did he? Didn't want to be around you?" he teased. Conlan tensed and one of the boys stepped forward.

"Stop it Jason. He could lock us all up in a tree and nobody would know," the boy said quietly. He was a farmer's child and his father had been sure to impress upon him that he was to stay away from Conlan. Jason laughed.

"You don't honestly believe that? He's a little leprechaun. There's no such thing as magic," he scoffed. The other boy stepped back into the group. "So why'd he leave huh?"

"He had to go chasing off some bandits," Conlan replied angrily.

"Is he gonna lock the baddies up in a tree?" Jason asked sarcastically and burst out in laughter. Several of the other boys followed suit. Conlan turned around angrily and stormed off.

* * *

_**One week later**_

Conlan sat in one of the chairs by the fire and stared into the flame. Halt was supposed to get back at any moment. Earlier in the day they had received a letter from Halt saying he was about half a day north of Redmont. Now it was almost midnight and Conlan was debating going to bed. He stood up and as he did so he heard the door open behind him. The teen turned around and saw Halt drop his packs by the door and hang his bow and cloak on a hook. Conlan gave a small smile despite himself. Over the year, things had been tense and easy between them. Halt looked exhausted as Conlan approached him.

"Welcome home," he said cheerfully. Halt grunted in reply and Conlan felt his smile fade. "How was the mission?"

"Fine," Halt said as he removed his boots. He was spent after a day in the saddle and all he really wanted now was to go to sleep. Through his drowsiness, he didn't see Conlan's disappointed look. "I'm going to bed, see you in the morning." With that, Halt ruffled Conlan's hair and made his way to his shared room. Conlan watched angrily as the door to his parent's room closed.

Halt had forgotten it was his birthday.

* * *

_**One year later **_

"Aim higher so you allow for the drop," Halt instructed as he watched a fifteen year old Conlan shooting at a target set fifty meters away. His tone was lacking of emotion as had become the custom when he spoke to his son. Over the year Conlan had increasingly separated himself from Halt. Pauline had reassured the old Ranger that it was just a phase brought on by the teenage years but something inside Halt doubted that. Something else was going on.

Conlan felt his anger on the rise but took a deep breath and did as Halt had said. The arrow landed a hand's span beneath the bullseye. Conlan angrily threw the bow to the ground and ripped the quiver off his back so it joined the bow. Halt had taken him for an apprentice almost half a year ago and he hadn't been making any progress. Mostly due to the fact that he wasn't all that eager to learn and he held a grudge against his father. Halt watched calmly.

"Pick it up and try again," Halt said. Conlan turned to him angrily.

"No! I'm done with this!" he shouted. Halt kept his calm face on though he felt agitated. He had no clue what had happened between them.

"Pick it up. If you're going to be any sort of Ranger then you need to practice," Halt ordered, barely keeping his voice calm.

"No! I'm sick of this!" Conlan roared. He was fed up with being Halt's son. Everybody expected him to become a Ranger. And not just any Ranger but the best when the reality was that he didn't even want to be a Ranger. Not only that, but he was tired of Halt not being around all the time and of how the apprentice knights treated him. Or of how any kid treated him really. All of the village and farm kids were too scared to talk to him because they believed the black sorcery rumors that surrounded the Rangers and the knights mocked him for his size. And he blamed it all on Halt. To say the least, he was ready to give up. "I don't want to be a damn Ranger, I don't want to be like Will or Gilan and I don't want to be your son!" he exploded. Halt raised an eyebrow at the outburst, Conlan had said many things before but never had he said he didn't want to be Halt's son. The grizzled man was surprised to find that his words hurt him a bit. Conlan ripped his cloak off and threw it at Halt's feet as he stormed towards his horse, Breaker.

Halt had learned from experience to let Conlan cool off at times like these. So instead of chasing after him, Halt simply watched as his son galloped towards the castle. Little did he know that that was one of the biggest mistakes he ever made.

O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O

Halt raced through the forest, the pouring rain beating against him and his vision blurred. He had arrived home an hour or so before dark only to find that Conlan had taken his personal items and left. Halt had raced out to Abelard and quickly mounted. Promptly, he had taken off into the forest where the guards had seen Conlan heading. Now it was almost midnight, pouring rain and thundering. Breaker's tracks were basically gone from the downpour but Halt persisted on, searching for anything. In his head Halt had convinced himself that he could find his son but in his heart he knew it was just fancy thinking. And so went the night. A father searching for a son he knew he'd lost.

* * *

_**Two months later**_

Halt looked at the grave before him. Will was in that grave. Only one month ago he'd gone on a mission to Skandia and a few days ago he'd returned like this. Posing as a Skirl on the ship, an assassin had slipped the young Ranger a poison in his food. Halt didn't know the specifics of who had sent the assassin and why. He was too disturbed to really care at the moment. In the end it all added up to the same thing. The fact that Will was gone and never coming back. After losing Conlan, Halt had fallen into a gloom. He'd only recently been dragged out of it only to be rewarded with this news that Will was gone. The Ranger, not able to stay there anymore, walked out of the graveyard and to a local tavern. He knew it wasn't the best solution, in fact he hated drunks but he couldn't come to any other conclusions. He didn't want to remember this. He didn't want to remember that not only was Conlan gone but so was Will. He ordered his whiskey and sat in a corner of the bar and drank the night away. It was just the first time of many.

**Okay, so that is the real prologue and I will not be changing it again. What happened was I had like three prologues on the other one and I couldn't delete one because it messed it up and everything...so yea...please review**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Ranger's Apprentice or any of its characters**

**I added a part on the prologue, it's at the end and helps explain the thing with Will and why Halt is...not really Halt like at the moment**

**I'll be trying to make these chapters longer than most I've written before but if you see anything completely unnecessary then tell me so I don't start explaining every small detail to get more words because that would be bad**

**And to Tuglover98 and any others that have been wondering about my lack of humor in these past few fics, I've been trying out other things you know? But once this is done and I finish/start any others that I have in mind or are like planning out I'll be doing something. And for Monsters of the Past readers, I know it's been forever since an update but Mychele has started school and can't be on all the time but we are not discontinuing it as far as I know**

The young man took a deep breath as he stood before the large oak door. Beyond the door lay his master's quarters. Tanor, as the master liked to be named, had called him to the room and he knew from experience that nothing good could come from this. Deciding that he had stalled long enough, the man opened the door. Inside it was dark. The windows had heavy drapes over them and the only light was from the raging fire in the fireplace. There was a desk across from the door and several comfy chairs located in a half circle before it. Along the walls were bookshelves and on the floor were rugs of the finest materials. Holding his head so he was looking at the floor, the man advanced and stood across from the desk, waiting for an order.

"Sit." The voice had a strong Pictan accent. The man obeyed and sat down, still avoiding looking at his master. Tanor had made it clear that the consequences wouldn't be good for him if he were to look up for he needed his identity to remain a secret. "You failed in your mission," Tanor stated.

"I…I know master," the man said a bit nervously. He'd never failed in anything Tanor had set him but that didn't make a difference. One mess up was all it took, or so he'd heard from others.

"You've never failed me," Tanor answered almost thoughtfully. Wisely, the man stayed silent. "Seeing as I cannot risk losing you at the moment, I will give you one chance to redeem yourself. But that is all," he added. The man held back the sigh of relief. At least he wasn't going to be tortured as he heard the punishment for failing was.

"Thank you Tanor. Anything," the man said, relief was evident in his voice.

"Don't be so calm yet," Tanor snapped. "I need you to do a special task for me," he said shortly. The man went to raise his head but stopped in time.

"What kind of task?" he asked. He shifted in his seat but kept his gaze on his folded hands in his lap. He knew what kind of job it was bound to be. He was an assassin and there was little else he could do besides kill.

"It's a job in Araluen," was the reply. The man stiffened at the mention of his homeland but said nothing. "It's for somebody that needs to be taken out of the picture if we are to succeed in taking over the country easily. He's one of the best tacticians Araluen has, even in the state he's in now" Tanor explained.

"Who is it?" the man asked.

"Are you going to take the job?" It was a pointless question really. If he refused the job then he would be beaten or some other form of punishment for disobeying. Maybe even tortured until he agreed. Five years of working for his master had taught him that. When he had first come to the castle, he was reluctant to kill but in a short time he had become accustomed to it and possibly a bit bloodthirsty as well. It was what his master wanted and he had bound himself to that man. So if his master needed somebody removed, he was expected to carry out that request without qualm.

"Yes," he said.

"His name is Halt. Ranger Halt O'Carrick to be exact." The man, already uneasy about going to Araluen, felt his gut twist and he shifted in his seat. "I see you know of him," his master stated as he saw the shift of movement.

"Yes. I used to at least. Those days are gone," he replied.

"They better be, Troy," Tanor snarled. Troy gave a small nod. "I need him dead. Whether you do this peacefully or not, it doesn't matter. Whether you fail or succeed you will return here. If not I will send men after you," he said. Troy gave a nod again.

"Anything else?" he questioned. Thoughts were buzzing around in his head about his future task and he wasn't listening as well as he should have.

"You will be leaving after lunch today. Barry has gotten your horse ready with all the supplies you need. He also has the file with Halt's information. You just have to choose your way of killing and be prepared," Tanor said. "That is all. Dismiss yourself." Troy nodded and rose from his seat. "And Troy, do not to mess up or you might just return to a…surprise let's say." Troy nodded his understanding, too distracted to speak or to really listen.

* * *

Halt brought the bottle up to his lips and tipped it back. He was in his apartment in the castle only it looked different than it had five years ago. When the drinking had started it was only one, maybe two, nights a week and was reasonable, if you could call drinking reasonable. However, over the years with no way to escape his grief, it'd become to increase. Now Halt was rarely ever sober and when he was drunk he was more violent and grim than he was when sober. The apartment was proof of this with shattered bottles lying on the floor and the remains of whatever he may have destroyed in his drunken anger strewn everywhere. Only one chair still stood and the table had been replaced several times. The cabinets that had been in the kitchen lay on the floor in a pile of carnage. There was little left to destroy but Halt still managed to find something. Today was possibly worse because today was when Conlan had run off five years ago. Either one of the incidents, Conlan's runaway or Will's death, encouraged him to drink more and therefore be angrier.

There was a series of knocks at the door but Halt didn't acknowledge it in any way. There was always somebody coming to see him. Gilan came by at least once a week and Baron Arald was known to make some appearances, not to mention Alyss who knew what Halt was going through to a certain degree. Crowley came when he could and most recently Halt had been having another visitor because of yet another incident. Though the last visitor he never admitted and he was beginning to separate from Gilan, never really speaking to him if he even let him in. He seemed to be separating himself from everybody lately.

"Halt!" Crowley said loudly. Halt simply glared at the door. "It's me, Crowley," Crowley added. The sound of a breaking bottle on the door was the only answer. The commandant took a deep breath and opened the door to the apartment. Halt was already uncorking one of the many full bottles that stood by his feet. Crowley would have taken a seat if there had been another chair but settled for standing where one might have been at the table.

"Get lost," Halt snarled. His voice had a sort of slur to it, making Crowley realize how much Halt was changing. The commandant could see Halt was on at least his third bottle.

"I thought you told me you'd stop with this," Crowley said a bit pleadingly. Seeing Halt like this never got any better, even after five years.

"I say a lot of things," Halt answered curtly and Crowley sighed. Each visit he hoped Halt would get better and each visit he was forced to realize how far gone Halt was becoming.

"Halt, it's time to stop with this. It's ruined you," Crowley said sternly. "I can understand it when you did this a few times when Conlan left and then when Will died but that was five years ago. I can understand that you didn't go on the missions I set you to for at least a month after each of them was gone but five years? That's too much Halt. Gilan tells me that you won't even let him in anymore and if you do then you don't speak with him. Halt, you need to snap out of it," Crowley said desperately. Halt merely looked at him.

"Are you done?"

"Are you going to stop with this?" Crowley questioned as he gestured around the apartment at the carnage and general mess. In response Halt took a swig out of his bottle. "Think about it Halt. Not only have you basically given up on being a Ranger but now I hear that Pauline-"

"Shut up," Halt snarled before Crowley could continue. "Shut up and get out of here."

"See Halt? You aren't fine with all of this. She left because of all of it," Crowley answered, realizing he had found something to get to Halt. "She only left because of the drinking and the violence. You've gotten worse, the last time I came, the cupboards were on the wall and the chairs were still here. If you'd just stop then she'd be more than willing to come back-"

"I said get out," Halt growled in a low and dangerous voice. His Hibernian burr was clear and Crowley felt his courage fumble a little.

"You're going on a mission," Crowley said, deciding to drop the matter and change the subject. Halt didn't say anything; he was breathing heavily and looked ready to kill.

"I'm not going on any damn mission," he said after a pause. Though he'd never say so, it was killing Halt not to be acting as a Ranger but it just didn't work. While performing on king's business, which was basically any mission at all, one could not have alcohol. More often than not, the punishment was striping of the person's status and if it was real bad it could end with dungeon time. Halt knew he couldn't be without his alcohol that long. He'd tried to stop but the misery and grief was too much. Staying off missions was the only way he could keep his status, though not so much his dignity, and his drink.

"Yes you are," Crowley persisted.

"I said no!" Halt yelled as he stood and sent his chair tumbling backwards. "Get the hell out of here!" he added. Five years ago he wouldn't have reacted like this. Five years ago he would have dealt with this in a completely different way but this wasn't five years ago and this wasn't Ranger Halt. This was five years later and this was Halt the Drunk. Crowley looked at him helplessly. Halt may have lost not one but two sons but Crowley had lost a best friend.

"Halt-"

"Get out!" Halt yelled as he took yet another swig. Crowley, realizing he couldn't deal with Halt when he was this angry and there was little hope of calming him down, tossed a small stack of papers on the table. Halt didn't seem to notice.

"Fine Halt, I'll see you later," Crowley said dejectedly. He turned away and walked out the door. There was nothing else he could do.

**Mmmmkay, please review:D**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Rangers Apprentice or any of its characters**

**In the last chapter, I forgot to mention that the two scenes are like at different points in time. The scene with Halt takes place I think maybe a week or two after the scene with Troy, I just didn't want to go and explain Troy's very uneventful journey from Picta to Redmont. **

Halt woke up sprawled out on the couch with a bottle in hand and a blanket draped over him. Outside it was dark and the fireplace had a small flame going. Halt didn't recall lighting the fireplace or grabbing a blanket but then again, he never did remember anything really. There were vague impressions but not much else. The Ranger sat up and rubbed his eyes, his head was throbbing in an excruciating manner and he felt sick as was the result almost every time he drank. It was a pretty common occurrence and it didn't bother him as much as it had the first times he'd winded up wasted. Aching all over, Halt stood and looked around the dimly lit room. Realizing he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep, Halt went to the table, stumbling as he did so, and took a seat. He reached down to grab one of his bottles when a stack of papers caught his attention. He frowned; there was one of those vague impressions involving the papers. He tried to think back but stopped when his already pounding head protested. Setting the bottle on the table beside him, Halt reached across and dragged the stack over to him. In the dim light he couldn't make anything out so he lit a candle and placed it beside his bottle. The page on top of the pile was a letter with his name at the top. He frowned as he began to read.

_Halt, I know you don't want to do this but it's time to move on. The Corps. needs you back and it's effecting everybody around you. I've assigned you to this mission, it isn't a big adventure but it'll help you start to get back on track. Lately there have been reports of violent robberies. Whoever it is doesn't just stop at simply robbing their victims; they slaughter the merchant and their family as well. Based on the reports I've looked at, I believe they have a hideout near Redmont. Please Halt, just do this. We all hate seeing you like you are and I don't think Will would want to see you like this either. You can't keep on like this. Just do it for all of us._

The letter ended and Halt simply stared at it, it took him a few moments to process what it meant as his mind was particularly slow. He didn't know what to do really. On one side he wanted to go back to going on missions, it was in him, a part of him. On the other side, however, he couldn't bring himself to do it. Going without alcohol would just mean the nightmares, the memories and the blame would all come back. He couldn't handle it all, it was too much and his escape had been working fine. At least in getting rid of everything like the nightmares and all, not so much in keeping him on track. Crowley had tried this before; Halt couldn't count the number of times the commandant had issued him missions and each time he'd shot them down but this time was different. If Halt had been depressed when Conlan left then Will died then now he was about ready to simply give up on everything. Pauline's departure had taken place over a month ago yet he still couldn't wrap his mind around it. If his drinking problem had been bad before, now it was downright awful. He hated what he'd become but it seemed to be the best way of forgetting for him. There was no way he wanted to remember all that had happened.

Getting frustrated, Halt shoved the papers off the table and buried his head in his hands. Head still pounding, Halt reclined in the chair and began to drink again. In only an hour or so he was out like a light again.

* * *

Crowley knocked on the door to Halt's apartment. There was no answer and he knocked harder. Again there was no answer. A little worried, Crowley quickly opened the door to see Halt passed out in the chair with his head on the table. The commandant saw the papers strewn on the floor by the table and sighed. Before waking Halt, Crowley picked up the papers and set them on the table. He moved the full bottles that lay by Halt's feet away so they sat under the couch and out of sight.

"Out of sight, out of mind," Crowley mumbled as he stashed the last one. When that was done he stopped a servant in the hallway and ordered him to get a bucket of water. Returning to Halt, Crowley started to shake his shoulder. "Halt, wake up," he ordered in a loud voice. The commandant continued to shake Halt with no results. "Halt!" Crowley said louder after a few minutes.

The servant returned with a bucket of water and Crowley motioned for him to put it on the table before he left. Going away for a moment, Crowley returned with a rag and dipped it in the water. He placed it above Halt's head and squeezed the water out. Halt simply moaned and Crowley felt a little relieved, at least he hadn't drunk himself into a coma.

"Come on, wake up," Crowley said loudly and resumed shaking his friend. Halt moaned again but this time an eye opened slowly. Crowley stepped back as Halt sat up, his eyes closed tightly as he rubbed them.

Halt didn't look all that impressive. His hair was rumpled and more uneven than normal while his eyes were bloodshot. His overall appearance was grungy and though he was still formidably strong from living a life as a Ranger, he looked as if he was a punching bag. Crowley went to speak but didn't get so much as a word out before Halt doubled over and threw up on the floor. Crowley waited for him to finish before handing Halt a glass that he had filled with water from the bucket. While he watched Halt drain the glass, Crowley wrinkled his nose from the rank smell. He'd have to get somebody in here to clean it up.

"What the hell are you doing back here?" Halt said in a gruff voice as he brought his chair closer to the table so he could reach the bucket and fill up his glass again.

"I wanted to ask if you were going to go on that mission," Crowley started.

"What mission?" Halt growled as he took a sip from his glass. For a moment he looked like he was going to throw up again but it passed. Crowley sighed mentally. Halt must've been drunk or suffering a hangover when he'd looked at the papers he'd left. And judging from the fact that the papers had been strewn across the floor, Crowley assumed Halt had seen them.

"There've been some violent robberies in the fiefs closest to Redmont lately. Based on what I've looked at, the robbers have a sort of camp set up in the forest around here. I was hoping you could go scout out the forest. You know where thieves tend to hide there," Crowley explained. Halt glared at him.

"Send Aaron, he's the Ranger of this fief," Halt replied grimly. He looked tired and Crowley noticed his eyes weren't fully open, suggesting a headache.

"No Halt. You don't have a gold oakleaf so you're the Ranger here as well. Aaron doesn't know the forest as well as you," Crowley said though it wasn't completely true. Aaron knew the forest well enough but Halt knew it better and Crowley wanted Halt to go on this mission, not Aaron.

"No Crowley," Halt growled as he filled his glass up again. Crowley sighed and went to the kitchen. There wasn't much food and Crowley figured Halt ate when he went to the tavern in town. Finding a loaf of bread that didn't look too bad, Crowley returned to the table and handed it to Halt. It would help with soaking up the alcohol in his stomach. Halt looked at the bread; his stomach didn't feel like it could handle anything but he tore off a chunk anyways.

"Halt you can't really stay like this. I'm trying to help you here. Think Halt. You won't talk to Gilan anymore, you rarely talk to Arald or Rodney, you've cut yourself off from Duncan and you only talk to me when I come here and you only really argue with me. Not to mention you won't even let Pauline in here. And to top it all off, you're rarely ever sober any more. What is there left for you?" Crowley said reasonably. Halt set his glass and bread down and glared at the commandant.

"I'm not going on any damn mission," he growled. Crowley thought for a moment before turning around and walking towards the door. Halt didn't do anything, he simply watched.

When the door swung shut, he folded his arms on the table and rested his head on them. It felt like somebody was inside his brain and hammering away at his skull. It wasn't anything new to him but it was always worse after the day Conlan ran off or Will died. The minutes passed by before the door opened again.

"Get out Crowley," Halt warned, not bothering to look up. There was no answer and Halt sat up. "I said-"Halt stopped midsentence. Standing before him was not just Crowley but Pauline as well.

* * *

Troy crested a rise and Castle Redmont came into view. He'd been riding hard to get here and was a bit relieved to see the castle. It meant he could relax somewhat until he found his target. Patting his horse on the neck, Troy urged it on to a faster pace. The horse responded easily and soon they were riding into Wensley village. Finding a nice looking inn to stay in for the night, Troy booked a room and settled his horse down in the stables. Today he would rest; tomorrow he would start doing what he did best.

**Please review:D**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Ranger's Apprentice or any of its characters**

Halt felt his breath catch and his heart begin to pound faster. Glaring at Crowley, he just sat there, unsure of what to do. Pauline was studying him with a slightly wary look. Halt couldn't really remember the night Pauline had left, he'd been drunk, but judging from her cautious air he assumed it'd been one of his violent times. All too aware of his current appearance, Halt sat up a bit straighter and tried to look as respectable as a drunken man suffering a hangover could.

"Hi Pauline," he muttered awkwardly.

"Hello Halt," she said softly. Halt noticed she was staying away from him and he felt like slamming his head in a few doors.

"Pauline thinks you should go Halt," Crowley said, sensing the unease. Halt glared at Crowley, he'd used this tactic before. Only it didn't work so well when Pauline had lived with him and he hadn't believed her threats to leave. Halt looked back to Pauline, waiting for her to say something.

"You aren't Halt. I know it was tough for you when Conlan ran away, he was my son as well, and I know it was bad with Will, I felt the same. But what you've done isn't right. Not only that but you seem to be fine with it," she said. "Will you please go on the mission?" Halt frowned mentally though outwardly he was frowning anyways. Her tone was as if she was talking to Baron Arald or Rodney or even Crowley. It didn't sound like she was talking to him; it lacked the sweetness it had once held. "Please," she added and Halt saw a glint in her eye. After a moment he recognized it as a tear. Feeling as if he wanted to stick himself with an arrow, Halt looked down at his hands on the table.

He wanted to go, sort of. Going five years without a mission had revealed to him how much he really did rely on missions. They had kept him busy and doing what he loved. Halt had always hated drunks, he found it despicable how they would abandon their families to drink until they were sick and yet that was what he was now. And what he had been for the past five years. If he despised himself for letting Conlan run off then he absolutely loathed himself for becoming a drunk. Maybe the first month he'd started drinking was understandable. After losing a real son and then a surrogate son anybody would be driven to drink but after that it just became irrational. The problem was that he had become reliant on it and didn't want to go back to all the self-blame and nightmares. It seemed odd for somebody like Halt and he couldn't explain it. He supposed it was just because he'd dealt with all kinds of losses in his life but those two losses were almost impossible to recover from and were the two losses that hit him the hardest. And now he had another reason to hate himself and that reason was standing before him, trying to convince him to straighten out. The idea of just escaping it all would have tempted the strongest of wills, his included. It was too conflicting and this matter had come up a lot with him when he'd been sober. Usually he just drank the thought away but he didn't see any of his bottles lying around and he absolutely didn't want to drink in front of Pauline. Halt's face clenched a little as he forced himself to think clearly through the constant pain in his temple.

"I have something else to show you Halt," Crowley said when he saw Halt's face twist. Nobody knew what Halt thought these days but if past experiences were anything to go by, Crowley knew Halt was close to giving in. "Follow me," he said and started towards the door. Pauline followed and after brief hesitation, Halt followed grudgingly.

When they were in the corridor Pauline strode off in one direction a bit hurriedly while they went in another. Halt glanced at her and felt a bit disappointed. He didn't even know what he'd done to make things like this and that just made it worse. Crowley, not noticing Halt's glance, walked on down the hallway. Halt followed, stumbling a little until he gained his ground. Without any words being exchanged, they made their way out of the castle and into the courtyard. Outside it was bright and sunny as it usually was on summer days at noon. Halt had to stop because the sudden light hurt his eyes but Crowley plowed on. When the new shock of pain had subsided a bit, Halt followed, ignoring the odd glances being thrown at him. He didn't have his cloak on and his disheveled appearance wasn't something they were used to seeing. Crowley led him to the stables where he stopped and looked at Halt, a somewhat excited look on him.

"Stay here a moment," the commandant said. Halt went to give a sarcastic reply but Crowley was gone before he could say it.

Halt took the time to try and coordinate himself. His stomach felt better after the bread and his head wasn't pounding as much since he was rehydrated but was still throbbing from the bright light. Along with that, his mind was still a little foggy but he was able to push aside some of his discomfort. "Here," Crowley said and Halt looked up from the ground where he'd been staring. Crowley was standing before him and behind him there was a familiar shape. Halt focused and almost smiled as Abelard's head appeared over Crowley's shoulder.

When Old Bob had heard about Halt's drinking problem, he had determined that Abelard should be brought back to him. He didn't fancy leaving one of his best horses in the hands of a drunken Ranger. And though Bob was considered one of Halt's friends, he couldn't leave Abelard with the Ranger. Not when it wasn't positive that Abelard was going to be taken care of. Halt hadn't taken the loss well and it'd practically sealed his depression. Halt simply stared at the horse, his old friend. Abelard looked at him with his intelligent eyes and seemed to be questioning him.

_What's happened to you? _Abelard seemed to say. Halt looked him in the eye and noticed something like disappointment.

"I convinced Bob to give him back to you. He said it was fine as long as you were capable of taking care of him, otherwise he's going back," Crowley explained as Abelard took a few steps towards his master. "Abelard's been missing you from what Bob tells me. First month he was there he kept breaking out and running away to the castle." Halt ignored him and stroked Abelard's snout. "So Halt, are you going to take the mission and possibly start moving on or are you going to carry on like you are?" Crowley asked. Halt looked up and glared at the commandant. He didn't want to just give in but he didn't want to mess up and act as if he didn't want the mission and his horse.

"Fine," he grumbled.

* * *

_Halt stood facing Conlan. Or at least what he had wanted Conlan to become. His son was standing a bit smaller than average height with a mottled cloak covering him and a double knife scabbard at his hip. In his hand was a longbow and around his neck was a silver oakleaf. His multicolored eyes held determination and pride as the man turned to face his father. A small smile played at the edges of Conlan's lips and his hair looked like Halt's at a younger age. Next to this man stood another. What Conlan had wanted to become, a knight in shining armor. Silver armor glinted in an unseen light as this Conlan raised a magnificent sword above his head. His features were the same as the other Conlan only this one seemed to look happier. Before Halt could look too much at them, they shattered like glass. _

"_You ruined both of his futures," Pauline's voice rang through his head like a bell and he watched as her form stepped out of a misty curtain. "Because you were so clueless, he ran off," she said._

Halt woke with a start. He was lying in his bed in the apartment and there was no mist, no Pauline and no shattered pieces of his son. Taking a deep breath, Halt sat up and rubbed his eyes. Instinctively, he reached towards the bed stand for a bottle but his hand closed on empty space. Opening his eyes, Halt remembered that Crowley had taken his drinks as he had to be sober to start the mission. Halt laid back down and tried to forget what his mind had conjured up but couldn't. He knew it was his fault Conlan had left and he couldn't get over that.

Minutes passed and he realized there was no way he was going to get back to sleep. Standing up, Halt got dressed and grabbed the sack that he had packed earlier for the mission. He put on his cloak and quiver then grabbed his longbow before finally leaving the room.

In about half an hour, Halt found himself facing the line of trees that started the forest. The sun was just starting to shine on the ground and there weren't many people about. A trail led off into the forest before him, it was as good a place as any to start. He'd follow the trail until he was about a hundred meters into the forest then he would branch off to the right until he came to one of the caves that littered the woodland. It was an ideal place for bandits to stash away and recuperate until they planned to raid again. Crowley had told him to take his time but Halt was determined to start and finish this mission as fast as possible. The night had been his first time in a long time he hadn't gone to sleep drunk. And his worries had been discovered true as the nightmare had taken over his mind. He wasn't supposed to leave until noon but with nothing better to do and not wanting to wait; Halt was ready to go now. He was a little doubtful as he looked into the forest but knew he'd have to go on. Abelard shook his mane, sensing his master's unease and Halt absently patted the horse's neck.

"It's fine boy," he murmured. He looked back to the trees before him and felt the urge to turn around and come back later. Ever since Conlan had run away, Halt hadn't come anywhere near the forest, much less gone into its depths. There really wasn't any reason for it besides the fact that Halt didn't want to get wrapped up in his memories. As proved by his nightmare, they wouldn't be the most comforting. "Might as well get it over with," Halt said as he tapped Abelard's sides.

* * *

Troy looked around the center of Wensley village where all the merchants were set up. It was the first place he was going to look for his target. He'd been taught to look in large places where he could blend in and possibly pick up tidbits if not start a conversation with somebody or even spot the target. As he looked around, he became lost in his thoughts. This had been his home, well not exactly but he'd spent most of his time here. It hadn't changed much, except for new faces at some of the merchant stalls. He couldn't risk being recognized though he doubted anybody would really connect his present self with his past self. While he was stuck in his musings, Troy didn't realize it when he bumped into somebody, causing him to get knocked over backwards.

"Sorry," a tall and elegant looking woman said as she extended a hand down to him. He ignored the offer and stood himself, making sure that his cowl hadn't been pushed back in the fall. When he saw her face, he felt his heart start to pound a little faster. He had changed a lot in the past five years but, if one person could see the similarities in him it would be this woman. After all, what mother wouldn't recognize her son?

**Oooohhhh, yea you probably already guessed that:D Please review**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own Ranger's Apprentice or any of its characters**

Pauline looked at the slight figure before her. There was something about him that seemed familiar. She couldn't see his features too well due to the cowl shadowing his face and one eye seemed to be covered by something. Despite that, she was almost positive she'd seen him before. If only he'd remove his hood.

"May I ask your name?" she asked curiously before the man could go off. A thoughtful expression was upon her face. He was silent a moment as if debating whether or not to answer.

"Troy," he replied gruffly and the voice sounded almost exactly like Halt's. She shook her head to clear it. She was just seeing the similarities between this random man and Halt before his drinking because she'd been thinking about him lately.

_There is one other person this could be,_ a voice in her head said. _No, he's gone now, _she thought. _I'm just seeing connections in nothing. _Before she could say anything else, Troy was gone, lost in the crowd.

Troy glanced back over his shoulder and was relieved to see Pauline wasn't following him. Unconsciously he raised a hand to touch the eye patch that covered his dark brown eye; he'd worn it ever since he'd left Redmont. It wasn't natural to have multicolored eyes and it only made people wary of him, so once he'd been enlisted in Tanor's service, he'd decided to cover up his brown eye. Not only that but, it was the eye that looked like Halt's and if there was one thing he wanted to get away from, it was him. Another familiar face caught his attention over by the blacksmith's stall. Rodney was standing by a rack of swords and conversing with Crowley. Troy slipped through the crowd and made his way to the kiosk. Pretending to look at some daggers, Troy was positioned at Rodney's back and able to hear the discussion.

"So where do you think he went?" Rodney asked with a slight frown.

"I'd be willing to bet he went on the mission to the forest. I mean, there's really no other place for him to go and I think he really does want to go back to how he was," Crowley answered, glancing around the square casually. His eyes passed right over the dark form of Troy.

"I just hope it works," Rodney muttered.

"Everybody does," Crowley said and ran a hand through his hair. Scanning the area again, his eyes rested on Troy who looked to be examining daggers. Crowley had seen him when he scanned the town center the first time and saw that he hadn't changed his stance or anything, suggesting he was intent upon something.

"Have you told Pauline yet?" Rodney asked, not noticing the commandant's slight frown.

"No," Crowley answered distractedly. There was something about the stranger, the way he held himself maybe or the way his face was concealed in shadow. It looked like Halt at a younger age possibly. Passing by a slightly baffled Rodney, Crowley approached Troy.

Troy acted as if he hadn't heard anything and grabbed a dagger casually to examine it. He was looking at the hilt when Crowley had gotten to him.

"Young lad, excuse me if I'm wrong, but do I know you?" Crowley asked, taking in the man's appearance. He wore a black cloak and his clothes were dull while his face was hidden in shadow, he looked a bit suspicious but Crowley was too engulfed in his train of thought to care all that much, besides, there were always shifty people walking around the market. Rodney hovered behind Crowley, frowning slightly.

"Don't believe so," Troy responded in his gruff tone. He had a small Pictan accent that helped disguise his voice somewhat but, it still sounded strongly like Halt's.

"What's your name?" Crowley persisted; perhaps this was just a random man that resembled Halt but, maybe not.

"Troy, Troy Brais," Troy responded, setting the dagger down. "I've never seen you before this moment, and I would appreciate it if you simply left me alone," he added with a little scorn. Turning his back on the commandant, Troy set off back towards the inn he had taken residence in.

Crowley turned around to look at Rodney who was frowning deeper now. His brows were drawn together in thought.

"You don't think that was…him. Do you?" the battle master questioned. Crowley shook his head.

"I think that we need to stop thinking about Halt so much," Crowley responded though the thought still nagged at him.

* * *

Once back at the inn, Troy gathered his few belongings, paid for his room then got Breaker from the stables. Taking off immediately, he rode towards the forest on the outskirts of Wensley village. In a few minutes he was at the tree line. The forest was large, and he had no clue how he was going to find Halt. His tracking skills were almost as good as a Ranger's, seeing as Halt had taught him things early on, and his assassin training had helped him as well but, Halt was a Ranger. He was trained to hide his tracks and he was one of the best Rangers in Araluen, even in the shape he was in now. Troy was considering giving up for now and coming up with another plan when an idea hit him. It would be a long shot seeing as it had been a long time since either he or Breaker had been near Halt or Abelard but it just might work.

Breaker was the Ranger horse Halt had given him when he had started his apprenticeship. Like all Ranger horses, Breaker had a superior intellect over normal horses and was trained to obey to certain commands. Even though Breaker and Troy weren't as close as Rangers and their horses were, Breaker responded to him without qualm.

"Track Abelard," Troy whispered into Breaker's ear. Breaker's ears shot up and he shook his head some. Troy sat still as Breaker sniffed the air. It had been a while, he wasn't even sure if it was going to work or if Breaker was going to get onto the trail of some random fellow out in the forest. A few moments passed with Breaker sniffing the air and pawing at the ground occasionally and Troy was about to call off the action when his horse began a swift trot forwards. Even after all these years he could still pick out the smell of Abelard.

* * *

Halt looked up at what part of the sky showed through the branches of the high trees. He was well off the trail now, and heading for a fairly well hidden cave a ways from where he was now. The noon sunlight came down through the cover of the leaves and branches, casting patterns on the forest floor. He stopped Abelard by an oak tree and dismounted. Grabbing a few pieces of jerky from the saddlebags, he sat down at the base of the tree. Riding Abelard had come naturally, even after five years, in a physical sense but he didn't feel as close mentally with his horse. This animal had once been part of him almost and now if felt as if they were simply partners. Abelard and he had been through so much, and he had ruined their connection because of a stupid mistake.

Halt gazed at Abelard who looked right back at him. Five years ago any look that Abelard gave him he could figure out in a heartbeat, now, however, it took a few moments before he decided upon what his horse might be thinking. It seemed as if everything had changed, and he had barely noticed. He'd been trapped inside his alcoholic refuge, forgetting or ignoring those closest to him. In those years he hadn't even set foot in the forest, the place he considered home more than anything else, or even considered going to see Old Bob to try and get Abelard back. Halt finished his few pieces of jerky before standing and stretching a bit. He was stiff and sore from only a couple hours in the saddle. The pains of riding weren't something one could get used to quickly after taking five years off.

Deciding he could afford a small break, Halt walked towards Abelard who continued to watch him with what Halt assumed was a confused expression. It only now occurred to him that he had changed a lot, and though those that had been around while he changed were used to it, Abelard wasn't. It had to be quite a sight to see a once beloved and respectable man that he called a master reduced to a drunk. Halt stretched out his hand to pat Abelard's muzzle. Abelard went to take a step back but hesitated and stayed put. The corners of Halt's lips turned up for a moment as he stroked Abelard's snout. Remembering something, Halt reached into his pocket and pulled out an apple. Abelard's ears pricked up as he eyed the fruit.

"Thought you might like this," Halt mumbled as Abelard reached forward and took the apple from Halt's hand. When he was done munching it, he butted Halt's leg. Halt reached into his pocket once more and pulled out another apple. "You're going to get fat if you keep on like this," Halt said as he handed the fruit to the horse. Abelard looked at him with a bit of amusement as he finished off his second apple. Patting the horse once more, Halt mounted. They weren't that far into the forest seeing as he had to check all caves and whatnot, and they still had most of the forest to go. Tapping Abelard's sides, Halt sent the horse into a trot.

**Please review**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own Ranger's Apprentice or any of its characters**

Crowley knocked on the door to Pauline's office. The sun was sinking outside and he knew she'd be finishing up any paperwork from the day. He still hadn't told her that Halt had run off and he figured she'd need to know. After he had spoken with Rodney, Crowley had wanted to go after the man he'd seen earlier but the inn he had seen Troy go into said that he'd already left. The commandant had debated going after Troy when he realized he had no clue where Troy might have gone. Deciding that he was overreacting, Crowley had abandoned his thoughts on Troy and went to the Baron where he spent most of the afternoon discussing Halt. After that he had decided not to wait until the morning to tell Pauline.

"Come in," a muffled voice replied. Crowley admitted himself and walked into the study. Bookshelves lined the walls on either side of the door while the wall to his left was home to a fireplace. Large windows on the right provided light at the moment while Pauline looked at papers covering her desk. She stood when she saw it was Crowley.

"Did he accept the mission?" she asked.

"In a way. He took off this morning but I think he did go off into the forest," Crowley responded, a little apologetically. He had promised Pauline that if Halt did accept it then he would go with him to make sure he would be fine and not try something.

"Did anybody go with him?" she questioned with a worried look. Crowley shook his head.

"Fraid not," he responded. Now her eyes widened and Crowley frowned. "What?" he asked.

"You need to go after him," she said hurriedly.

"What? Why?"

"He'll be going through withdrawal," she explained and Crowley's frown deepened. "About a year ago I tried to get him to stop by getting rid of his drinks. He started having seizures and hallucinations and other things. It got really bad and I went to the healer's. They said he was going through withdrawal and they offered to help but he refused. I meant to talk to you about it before you left," Pauline said. Worry was etched into her features.

"I'll go look for him now but there's not much I can do. He's had a whole day out there," the commandant responded as he left the room.

* * *

As the day wore on, Halt began to feel his head start to throb. It was nothing at first, a seemingly slight thing, but as the hour went by it became hard to cope with. A few minutes of this and Halt knew he wouldn't be able to go on. The sun was low in the sky anyways, and he decided to stop for the night. Finding a small glade, Halt dismounted and started taking care of Abelard. Though the sun was low in the sky and the temperatures had dropped, Halt felt sweat running down his face and in his palms. Abelard looked at him with a worried expression and Halt simply patted the horse, noticing as he did so that his hand was shaking. Halt sat down, his back against a fallen tree, and placed his head in his hands. The pounding was worse and he felt dizzy. He didn't fell hungry but forced himself to take a few sips of water. A few moments later he was doubled over and throwing up anything and everything that had been in his stomach. Abelard walked over to his bent over master and nudged him with his snout.

"I…I'm fine," Halt muttered shakily though he was anything but. He straightened himself and sat back against the log. Reaching out, he pat Abelard on the head. "Just a little sick is all," he added.

When the sun was finally gone from the sky and Halt had a small fire going, was when it really got bad. Abelard had bedded down nearby and Halt knew he was safe but he couldn't help the feeling of impending doom. Sleep was difficult to come by and he ended up staring up at the stars; for a while he had been comfortable but then it started. In every shadow there seemed to be a hidden threat. His heart was pounding in his chest and he was shaking uncontrollably. It felt as if Halt's skin were crawling and something inside of him seemed to be telling him he was going to die. Unable to sit up because he was shaking so bad, Halt lay there in pure panic.

Abelard, sensing something was wrong, woke and stood. He saw his master lying on the ground shaking and convulsing, his eyelids fluttering rapidly. The horse pawed the ground and gave a loud whinny; it was unsettling to watch Halt like this. After a minute or so the shaking stopped and left Halt somewhat still, his hands were still trembling and he looked baffled. In the moonlight, his face looked pale and drenched with sweat. Managing to sit up, Halt tried to take deep breaths but the panic came over him again and he began to shake though not convulse. He didn't really know what was happening. Around him he began to hear voices. He couldn't pick out any words or anything, they just seemed to be there and when he managed to roll back over on his back, he saw things flickering in the shadows. Many forms rushing about, it seemed and Halt, in his current state, believed it was people ready to kill him. The forest began to melt away and Halt felt ants crawling up around him.

Halt looked down at his leg and saw a giant, evil looking creature gnawing at him. The voices grew louder until they were shouting in a constant flow; he was still unable to make out any individual words. Above the noise was a deep and terrifying laughing noise that made his blood run cold.

"H…Halt?" a voice said in an almost amused tone. The thing that unnerved Halt the most was that that voice was almost exactly like his own.

* * *

Breaker kept on for most the day at a steady pace, and even when the sun had set Troy kept on. Endurance was one thing his horse had in abundance. Being an assassin's horse, Breaker had had to carry on through nights and days to outrun search parties and enemies. So by the time when Troy had decided to stop for the night, around midnight, Breaker wasn't as tired as might be expected. Troy, after taking care of the horse, sat beneath a tall oak tree. He had stopped wherever he'd been so he wasn't in a clearing, not that he really minded.

His eyes were drooping closed when he heard a soft whinny. He was instantly on his feet, dagger in hand and looking around. Glancing at Breaker, he saw the horse was up and looking at him for instruction. The noise had been too far off to be from Breaker but, it didn't sound like it was far away either. Troy made the signal for Breaker to stay and the horse obeyed as he walked towards where he assumed the noise had come from. His dagger was still in hand when he came to a place, only about five meters away, that looked like a clearing. There was a small fire in the middle, next to a fallen log and a horse stood looking at something. Troy stayed where he was, trying to assess what was happening. Whatever was on the ground that the horse was looking at kept twitching and generally looking like it was having a seizure. Troy recognized the horse as Abelard and used his reasoning to determine the one on the ground was Halt. A sense of bloodthirsty-ness came over him along with something like a need for revenge. All his life he hadn't known what to think about to Halt but lately, after he'd been issued the mission, he'd come to realize he really did want to kill Halt. Not only would it give him the satisfaction of revenge for all the bad childhood memories but, it would also paint him in a good light with Tanor.

Troy continued to watch with a cruel smile, waiting to see what would happen. Perhaps Halt was dying and he could watch it. The Ranger sat up for a few seconds before collapsing again onto the ground. With a frown, Troy realized Halt was not going to simply die; he'd seen things like this many times when he'd used poisons on people. He didn't know what was causing it with Halt but he did know it was a seizure, more than likely harmless. Frowning a little, Troy began to cross the clearing to where Halt finally lay still.

When he reached the place where Halt lay, Abelard stepped forward a bit threateningly. Halt was looking at his leg with a kind of horror and Troy looked at the horse. Abelard tilted his head in a confused fashion. He knew this stranger, but this stranger was supposed to be gone. Abelard looked down at Halt who looked clammy and was breathing quickly. Abelard did remember something about this stranger and that was that he was one of Halt's kind.

"Go boy, find Breaker," Troy commanded, seeing that Abelard recognized him. Halt had trusted his son enough that he had allowed Conlan to ride Abelard. Abelard considered Conlan one of his few masters and obeyed, though a bit reluctantly.

Looking back down at Halt, Troy frowned. This most definitely wasn't the Halt he had last seen. This man was pale and ragged looking. He was sweating and looked to be in a state of complete panic and fear. Though Troy knew this was Halt and it brought him some happiness to know his father was like this. It was a twisted thing for a mind to think but, then again, assassins did have pretty twisted minds.

"H…Halt?" Troy questioned in an amused tone, his dagger ready to stab.

**Tell me if you think Pauline was OOC because I think she was but I needed that bit there. Oh, and yes, those symptoms of alcohol withdrawal are real and they can be that bad if the person was/is a very heavy drinker for a long period of time...so yea...please review**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own Ranger's Apprentice or any of its characters**

Halt looked up through his fluttering eyelashes to see a form standing before him. Around him things changed again. The creature disappeared but the voices persisted. Things seemed to shift around him and it felt as if worms were crawling along his skin, covering him. His heartbeat now racing, Halt jumped up with his nerves stretched as thin as parchment. Holding his saxe knife in his hand, Halt lunged at the figure. It was a clumsy move, partly because of his shaking and nervousness but also because he hadn't fought in five years. Halt felt a force shove him to the side and he landed on the hard ground. As he rolled onto his back to look at his attacker, Halt was unnerved to see the man looked almost exactly like him at an early age. Before he could take in much more of the man's appearance, said person raised his arm, a sharp dagger gripped in his hand.

The Ranger twisted on the ground and sensed more than saw the blade lodge into the ground close to him. While the other man seemed to pause for a moment, Halt managed to stand so he was facing his attacker again. The shaking persisted and so did the sweating. The voices were shouting at him with the horrible laugher ringing out over it all and it felt as if death were looming ever closer towards him. The only reason he was standing was through the sheer power of adrenaline.

The attacker advanced again and Halt held his blade in a threatening manner. At least it would have been threatening had his hand not shook so much. With one fluid move, Halt felt his saxe dislodged from his grip and was just in time to take a step back as the assailant's blade sliced his chest just under his collar bone. Still running on his adrenaline, Halt grasped his throwing knife, his last chance possibly. At the moment the two combatants were just outside the ring of light the fire cast. Halt could only see a blurred form and threw the knife randomly. The knife flew through the air virtually unseen and Halt heard a thud as the body fell to the ground.

Making his way over to where it lay, Halt found that he was shaking too bad to stand. He collapsed onto the ground, falling into another seizure.

* * *

Troy held his knife ready to stab Halt but paused. Halt seemed so…different and terrified. He was shaking all over and his pale skin was clammy. He knew something was wrong, no way was Halt ever supposed to look like this and it gave him a sort of pleasure seeing his target in such fear. Trapped up in his savoring, Troy was caught unawares as Halt jumped up with his knife. Halt lunged at him and Troy took a small step to the right. Waiting until Halt was at his most vulnerable; Troy shoved him, sending the Ranger tumbling to the ground. With the fire light illuminating the side of his face, Troy's features were visible. Halt looked up at him with the look of bewilderment. Troy raised his arm to throw the knife down at Halt now that the Ranger and without thinking twice he threw it. He couldn't allow himself to think, he had to let his instincts take over. If he thought then he would realize what he was doing and he couldn't let that happen, not now, not when his life and status for Tanor hung in the balance.

Halt rolled to the side and Troy paused a moment as he grabbed another knife from a hidden sheath in his sleeve. Leveling the blade so he could dart forward and stab Halt, Troy prepared himself. He was about to dart forward when he stopped. Halt was standing but it looked like it was taking enormous effort.

_What are you doing? _

The thought slipped through the barrier Troy had put up in his mind to stop his musings. Lowering the blade a little, Conlan watched with a bit of pity for Halt as he managed to finally stand. Halt was shaking and Conlan felt the need to help him but Troy quickly disregarded the thought as Halt raised his own blade in a pathetic display. Quickly, Troy swung at the knife, dislodging it from Halt's grip. In a backhand movement, Troy sliced at Halt's chest. The Ranger stepped back, causing the blade to skim across him just enough to draw blood. In just another moment, Troy felt something sharp hit him in the gut. Stumbling backwards, he grasped at the hilt of something and fell to the ground.

* * *

An hour later, with the moon almost completely gone and the sun just starting to peek over the trees, Halt's eyes opened. His heart was pounding fast and he still felt his hands shaking and his body was shuddering as well though not quite as bad. He found enough strength to stand up and he walked towards the form lying a few feet from him. Whoever it was was still breathing though a bit ruggedly. Their hands were putting pressure on the area around the knife wound, keeping it from bleeding it too terribly. As Halt came closer, the eyes opened and he froze. One eye had an eye patch over it but the other was a brilliant grey.

"No," Halt said quietly. He knelt down by the weak figure's side and fumbled with the eye patch. It took him a few tries because of his shaking hands but Halt managed to remove it. The dark brown eye looked up at him and he shook his head. "No, no, no," he muttered, his heart starting to speed up.

Troy smiled up at him, a cruel ruthless smile that would have made anybody's skin crawl. If he hadn't killed Halt and it seemed he was going to die now, it seemed reasonable in his mind to make sure Halt was as disturbed as possible.

"Oh yes," Troy said weakly.

* * *

A little frustrated, Crowley looked up at the moon that was disappearing. He was tired and stressed. He had no clue where Halt might be in the large forest. He had tried to have Cropper follow Abelard's scent but something else was covering it up and seemed to confuse the horse. Giving up on that plan, Crowley began to just wander. He was just considering stopping the seemingly hopeless search when, through half closed eyes, he saw two shapes roughly the same size as Cropper. Cropper, recognizing one of the scents of the two shapes, gave a short whinny. The shape answered back and Crowley dismounted quickly, suddenly awake. If Abelard was here, and he was sure it was Abelard, then Halt should be close.

Crowley rushed towards Abelard and quickly realized Halt wasn't there. There was no sign of him and Abelard's saddle and bags were removed. Panic gripping his insides, Crowley looked at the other shape, which he had come to realize, was another Ranger horse. Something was definitely wrong. Abelard wouldn't leave Halt's side unless Halt or somebody else the horse considered a master had told him to. The memory of what happened at the market flashed through Crowley's mind and he looked at the other horse. It looked at him with a familiar sense and Crowley snapped his attention back to Abelard. This wasn't looking good.

"Where's Halt?" he asked Abelard who stomped the ground and shook his mane before turning around.

With an arrow knocked and drawn back in his bow, Crowley followed the horse cautiously. It only took a few minutes before the trees gave way to a clearing. Crowley saw a pile of coals smoking and a form a few feet away from it bent over and shaking his head. As Crowley drew nearer, he realized it was Halt who couldn't stop shaking and had dried blood caked onto the front of him.

**I couldn't find anything on how long the hallucinations last or if the person suffering from withdrawal is always shaking and everything so I did this where Halt is a bit calmer. Also, I don't know if they had any herbs or anything in medieval times that would calm somebody like Halt so I may just make something up all righty? Okay then:D Please review**

**Oh and if anybody notices the whole transition of name things and why I tis be happy:D**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I do not own Ranger's Apprentice or any of its characters**

**Sorry this was so long in coming, the begining was actually really hard to write. So school starts in like four days, I'll try to write as much as I can but after school starts I'll really only update on Fridays and weekends. Though it starts in the middle of the week and the first three days are really just getting you introduced so like a week more of fast updates maybe:D Thank you for following this and reviewing and all, it is much appriciated**

Halt looked at the figure lying on the ground before him, breathing raggedly. It was a shock to him that this man who had tried to kill him was his son. Mostly it confused him and he sat there staring at Conlan for a moment, his slow mind trying to process what was happening.

_You stabbed your son._

The thought flashed across Halt's mind and he stood, taking a step back. The voices were beginning to make their appearance again and the world seemed to begin spinning. As his breathing and pulse increased, Halt felt his head begin to pound. He saw Conlan lying in front of him, it was normal except for the fact that black worms began to crawl out of the man's wound in his stomach. Halt didn't know what happened after that. There was a moment when he remembered the ground rushing to meet him and somebody yelling his name but, after that, it was blackness.

* * *

Halt regained consciousness and found himself lying in a cot in what looked to be an infirmary. He felt fear begin to flood him and somebody sitting beside his bed began to talk in soothing tones. Halt's eyes snapped onto the man. He had a somewhat youthful face and if Halt had been in his right mind, he would have seen him as a nice person; he most definitely would have looked like a healer. However, Halt was far from being in his right mind and the blanket of fear and death that was settling over his mind made his heart beat faster and his thoughts turn bad. This man was out to kill him, he knew it, or at least he thought he did.

"You're fine," the man said. "Take deep breaths and just try to calm down. We're trying to help you," he added but Halt didn't believe him. "Drink this." The man held out a mug of something.

Halt's face was beaded with sweat and his hands were trembling. The Ranger didn't even try to reach for the mug; this man was out to kill him. He wanted him dead. Halt clumsily rolled out of the bed and stood so he was facing the healer that he thought was an assassin.

"Guards!" the healer shouted before Halt could get violent. Halt felt hands grab him and he fought against them but eventually was forced back onto the cot where another seizure took him to unconsciousness.

* * *

Crowley stood as a healer exited Halt's room. After Halt had fallen unconscious, Crowley had managed to get him strapped onto Abelard and get back to the castle. He had debated leaving Troy but in the end he tied his hands together and made him ride Cropper with him. Breaker had followed close behind them and by midafternoon they had gotten back to the castle. Almost immediately Crowley had gotten Halt into the infirmary with Troy. Not yet had he spoken a word to Pauline.

"What's going on?" the commandant asked. He had seen the two guards that had waited outside the room rush in.

"He woke up. I tried to get him to drink the tea but he's still hallucinating I believe. The effects of withdrawal are strong in him. The only thing we can really do is wait until he wakes again then try and get him to drink it. It should calm him down enough so that we can start considering what to do next," the man said with a sigh.

"Is he going to be fine though?"

"If we can get him to calm down and start getting his body used to functioning without alcohol, he should be fine," the healer answered. Crowley relaxed a bit.

"How long would it take for him to get back to normal after he takes it?"

"It'll take at least six weeks for the alcohol to get out of his system. If all goes well, the first two or three weeks will be the hardest but after that it should go pretty smoothly. The result is basically up to him," Lucas explained and Crowley thought for a moment.

"And the other one?"

"He's doing better. He must be used to getting injuries like that because he kept pressure on the area and didn't remove the knife. Right now he's resting but we bandaged him up. It was a struggle though," he said. Crowley nodded, only he and Halt knew Troy's real identity at the moment.

"Any idea when he might wake up?" Crowley asked with a sigh. He didn't really know what to do with Conlan. Halt was unable to tell of what had happened and Crowley didn't think he could trust Conlan.

"No, maybe later today but I'm not sure."

"Thank you Lucas," Crowley added as the healer left the room.

When the guards left Halt's room, the commandant debated going in but decided against it as he didn't know Halt's current state. If he woke up and reacted violently, Crowley wasn't sure he'd be able to bring himself to call the guards on him. Besides that, he wasn't sure if he could see Halt shaking and convulsing like he had in the forest. It didn't seem that that was Halt. After a few minutes of thinking, Crowley decided to leave. He was halfway down the hall outside the infirmary when he saw Pauline. She looked a bit worried and Crowley dreaded that he didn't have anything good to say.

"They're trying," the commandant said as the two drew level. "Lucas has something that should help him but the problem lies in trying to get him to take it," Crowley added.

"Did you see him?" Pauline asked, hiding her worry like an expert diplomat.

"Not since I brought him here. He's not in the right state of mind because his body is used to working with alcohol. Lucas says that if he'll just drink the tea he has then he should calm down and make it easier to work with him," Crowley answered.

"I'm going to see him," Pauline said in a resolved kind of way. Crowley looked at her, he knew she was most likely going to try and get Halt to drink the tea.

"Go ahead but be careful. Lucas called the guards last time because Halt showed signs of violence," Crowley replied.

"I'll tell you if anything happens," Pauline said as she started down the hallway. Crowley watched her for a moment.

"Wait," he said suddenly and she turned around. She had only gone a few paces so Crowley stayed where he was. Crowley hesitated, he knew she had a right to know about Troy but something held him back from telling her. With Halt in the state he was now, Crowley didn't know how she'd react to his suspicions that Conlan was now an assassin. He knew he'd have to tell her sometime but now he decided not to. "Be careful," he muttered lamely as he turned around and headed down the corridor. He needed some fresh air.

* * *

Troy feigned sleep, thinking over what to do next. Periodically he heard the door to his room open, only to close again and the room fall back into silence. He debated simply getting up and walking out of the room but he could barely move without having pain shoot through his abdomen. Leaving wasn't an option anyways. If he went back to Tanor with another failed mission then he wouldn't live much longer. Even if he didn't return back to Tanor, and simply hid in Araluen, he knew he wouldn't live long, Tanor had spies everywhere and his position wouldn't remain a secret. The only way he could live was to kill Halt and return to Picta. In his mind he began planning out what he was going to do to strike at the grizzled man.

_You can't do this._

The voice was clear in his head as if somebody was standing right beside him. Opening his eyes a bit so they were slits, Troy moaned. He had succeeded in keeping these things away for what seemed like a long time. In fact, he hadn't even heard the voice since he'd posed as a Skirl on the ship of a Skandian wolfship and killed a different Ranger.

"Go away," Troy said in a dangerous voice. Beside him was a man that looked exactly like he did only this man wasn't him. They may have looked like in appearances but in intentions and personalities they were practically opposites. Give or take a few moments.

"Why?" the man said simply.

"Because I hate him, we both do," Troy responded, opening his eyes fully. There was no sense in trying to get him to disappear; he'd leave when he was ready.

"That may be so but this isn't the answer. We were fine just leaving him alone," Conlan answered back.

"So now you like him?" Troy asked angrily. He hated when this happened and he knew that Conlan wasn't even really there. Only he saw him there.

"No, I hate him as much as you do. I don't want a thing to do with him but killing him defeats that intention doesn't it?" Conlan responded.

"Tanor will kill us if we don't."

"Maybe he will but I doubt it. We've been an excellent servant and with his upcoming plans we'll be sorely missed. Let somebody else kill Halt, we'll get different missions to prove ourself," Conlan said.

"I want to kill him," Troy growled.

"Talking about it and doing it are two different things," Conlan scolded. "I want to kill him, yes, but, unlike you, I know we won't be able to do it when the time comes. As it is, you messed up in the forest."

"You interfered and distracted me," Troy snarled back.

"Because I know what we'll feel like afterwards. We barely got over it when Tanor sent us on our first mission to kill Will. The only reason we got over it was because we didn't deliver the final blow," Conlan answered easily. It was true, Troy may have been the one that started Will's death but his mentor, Thanatos, was the one that had finished the Ranger off when he saw that Troy was hesitating.

"You interrupted then as well," Troy said darkly. "Go away," he snapped.

"How about we do something else?" Conlan said. Troy raised an eyebrow and for a moment he looked exactly like Halt. "There are plenty of people here that we both hate and that could help Tanor if they were dispatched. Not to mention it might help in covering up the fact we didn't kill Halt," Conlan answered reasonably. Troy thought for a moment, he truly hated Conlan in almost every aspect but, there were times when the two of them could agree on something.

"Deal," Troy said before Conlan vanished.

**Yes, there is something where a person can have split personalities and even hallucinate a person. If any of you have watched Perception, you might know what I'm talking about:D So yea, Troy and Conlan aren't really friends please review and tell me if the name switches and whatnot are confusing**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I do not own Ranger's Appprentice or any of its characters**

**Really sorry, I thought I'd be able to fly once the last chapter was over with but this is proving pretty challenging to write in certain parts. School starts on wednesday so I'll do my best to get as much as I can done but this is most definitely not going to be finished in a day. So once school starts I normally just update on weekends and Fridays and then randomly during the week when I can so there shouldn't be huge waits**

Pauline walked into the infirmary and was greeted by Lucas. He was holding what looked to be a cup of tea and had a knife at his side as if he were expecting trouble. Two guards stood by a door that she assumed led to Halt's room.

"Afternoon Lady Pauline," Lucas said, stopping in his trail to the door.

"Good afternoon Lucas," she responded with a polite bow of her head. "Might I ask how Halt is faring?" she questioned and Lucas' expression dampened a bit.

"He's hallucinating when he wakes from unconsciousness suffered by his convulsions. When he wakes he is terrified, the last time he reacted in a threatening manner," he said. "We've seen this before in knights that drown their worries and many have succeeded in rebounding but Halt's been drinking for some time now. It might be more challenging but, I believe he may be able to make a full recovery if we could get him to drink this," Lucas explained as he raised the mug a bit. "It has mint in it to help with his nausea and some herbs to help settle him down some. If we could get this into him then we can start him on the path to recovery."

"May I try?" Pauline asked when Lucas had finished speaking. Lucas hesitated. Almost everybody knew that Pauline had moved out of her shared apartment a little over a month ago and most knew why. Halt had become violent while drunk and even though he wasn't drunk now, his paranoia could prove just as bad. Glancing back at the guards, Lucas shifted. He didn't think it'd be wise to let her go in but it'd be even more unwise to argue with Pauline.

"He's not stable my lady," Lucas answered, trying to get her to abandon the idea. He was one of the diplomat's friends seeing as he was technically a craftmaster for the healers at Redmont. Along with the other craftmasters, he knew what Pauline and Halt had and he didn't think she'd be able to see him in the state he was in now. Pauline looked at him with her blank face. He hadn't given an answer really and he knew she was waiting for one. "Fine, but be careful and take this," Lucas said with a sigh as he handed over the knife and tea. Only a fool would argue with Pauline. "At the moment he's…restrained as he was causing problems but if any trouble stirs, say the word and the guards will be there in a second."

Pauline nodded her understanding and strode towards the door between the guards. They opened it for her and she entered with the warm mug of tea. Inside was a table and a chair set up beside a bed. One tall window placed behind the bed let the early evening light in, granting the room a soft glow. Setting the dagger down on the table, Pauline sat in the chair on the side of Halt's bed. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to look at him. Halt's face was glistening with sweat and his hands and ankles were bound to the cot. The cot was tilted at one end so his head wasn't lying flat but his neck was bound as well. At the moment he seemed relaxed; his breathing even as he lay asleep. It pained her to see him like this, a legendary Ranger reduced to a drunk going through withdrawal. If somebody had said he was going to be like this five years ago, she would have laughed herself to death. Never would anybody have thought that somebody like Halt could wind up like this.

Setting the tea down on the table by the dagger, Pauline brushed some damp hair out of Halt's face. Without thinking she started to rub Halt's arm soothingly. It seemed to happen out of nowhere. One minute Halt was simply lying there and the next his muscles tensed and he seemed to be fighting against his holds. His eyes were still closed and he seemed to be still unconscious. Pauline gripped his arm tightly, not knowing what to do. She watched helplessly as Halt strained against the rope, afraid that something was terribly wrong. She was about to call Lucas when the jerking stopped, leaving Halt breathing heavily as if he had just ran a long ways. When the Ranger's eyes opened, Pauline hurriedly grabbed the mug and put it to his lips.

"Drink," she ordered, somehow keeping her calm. Lucas had said the tea could help Halt relax and that seemed like it could help now.

Halt, confused after just waking and being ordered to drink, obliged and soon the contents of the mug were gone. He slumped back against the pillows placed behind his head, and Pauline left the room, a bit more than shaken.

* * *

Crowley sighed as he trudged up the steps that led to the baron's study. A messenger had caught up to him and told him that Arald needed to see him at the earliest time in regards to Halt. Not bothering to knock, Crowley opened the door and took a seat across from the large desk that dominated most of the room. The large windows on the right let in late afternoon light through the branches of the fig tree. Books and parchment littered the desk and bookshelves that were on his left. Arald looked up from a report he had been studying.

"Ah Crowley, I suppose you know why I called you here," Arald started, setting the report down.

"Yes, he's not doing especially great last time I was there. Lucas says that he's hallucinating and having seizures along with other symptoms and whatnot," Crowley said tiredly, he'd ridden most of the night to find Halt and was in need of a rest.

"Good to hear but I'm more interested in the man that arrived with Halt," Arald said and Crowley fought back the urge to sigh. He still didn't know what he was planning on doing with Troy…or Conlan…or whoever the hell he was supposed to call the man.

"What about him?" Crowley asked, trying to buy time to think of a response.

"Well it seems that he has attacked Halt and you refused to let the guards put him in the dungeon until we can question him."

"I know, it's just…he and Halt know each other. I need to question Halt on the matter but until he does what Lucas tells him to do, I'll have to wait," Crowley answered. Nobody had been granted access to Troy's room unless they were there to treat him. Crowley didn't want word to get out on the subject. As it was now, only he and Halt really knew who Troy was. Arald frowned.

"Even so, he doesn't seem the safest," Arald persisted.

"With all due respect, can you just leave this to me? It's a bit complicated and I don't know the story yet myself," Crowley said. He didn't mean to sound disrespectful; he just didn't know what was going on himself. He'd learned long ago not to say anything unless you were absolutely certain. Arald gave a small smile, sensing Crowley's thoughts.

"Tell me if anything changes with Halt," he said. Crowley took the cue and stood.

"Will do," the commandant answered.

**I think Pauline was better here than she was last time, please review**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I do not own Ranger's Apprentice or any of its characters**

**Hullo, seems I'm alive after three days of eighth grade:D Anywho, here ye go**

Troy opened his eyes once he heard the door to the room close. A healer had just been in to change his bandages and he was still feigning sleep. He didn't feel like answering any questions and he would bet anything that that's what awaited him. As it was, he didn't know why he hadn't been shoved into a dingy cell; Redmont so far seemed like a nicer place than the other places he went. In Picta he could remember several times he'd been close to death and shoved into a cell none the less. But that hadn't been for a long time, that had been when he had believed that if he performed badly, Tannor would let him free. There was no such luck, any failure or complications just brought him torture. After a while, one would come to terms with their job, maybe not completely but enough to get the work done.

"The craving is getting stronger," Conlan said. He was sitting by Troy's bed like he had earlier. Troy glared at him but he knew Conlan was right. Being an assassin, no matter how hard it may be at first, made one develop a sort of longing for the slaughter. It made one feel powerful being able to dispose of a life simply.

"Good to see you too," Troy grumbled while shifting so he was propped up on the pillows.

"I don't like doing it," Conlan said uneasily. Troy let loose a wolfish smile, maybe Conlan didn't like killing but Troy lived for it. Conlan was more content to just speak of it, as learned, doing and talking about it was different in almost all aspects.

"The question is who do we target?" Troy mused, ignoring Conlan's thought on the matter. Learning from a past experience, it did no good to argue with Conlan.

"Jason, Jason Felkirk," Conlan replied easily. Troy frowned; Conlan didn't seem all that troubled anymore. "He deserves it and you know it," Conlan said in response to the frown.

Troy nodded; Jason had made most of their childhood hell whenever he could. Though it wasn't often, it was enough for them to get around to hating Jason. On market days it had been the worst with Jason and his cronies mocking them. His cronies hadn't been the most involved in it and mostly they had just gone with it to avoid Jason's quick temper. It almost matched Troy's. If that hadn't been enough, Jason had constantly made it his duty to get to Conlan about how Halt was always leaving. Sometimes Conlan and Troy could respect their pride a bit too much and insults to their person could affect them.

"Sounds good to me," Troy responded. "There is just one problem." Conlan raised an eyebrow exactly like Halt might. "My gut seems to have a hole in it and if any of those damned healers see me walking out, I might attract a few guards. I don't know if you remember but we did injure and try to kill Halt," Troy said dryly.

"We've snuck out of prison before, this should be simple," Conlan answered.

"We can't move as fast now," Troy argued.

"What about Halt?" Conlan asked a bit reluctantly.

"What about him?"

"Please, we know that he's the only reason we aren't in a cell right now. Crowley knows who we are and he wouldn't dare move us into a cell without Halt's permission. He won't leave us here, no matter what's wrong with him," Conlan explained.

"He doesn't know about me," Troy recalled, a frown appearing again.

Before Conlan had left, he had been Conlan. Troy appeared by his side sometimes, the more Halt left, the more Troy seemed to pop up. After a while Conlan gave up trying to get over his annoyance at Halt's constant absences. It was just easier to brood. Even though he knew it wasn't natural and most likely a problem, Conlan never told anybody about Troy. Troy seemed to be the very essence of his thoughts and he didn't want any healer drugging him up and taking that away. After he had left Araluen, Conlan had changed his name and along the line ended up as Troy.

"He doesn't need to know," Conlan answered bitterly. Troy nodded and looked around the room.

"We still don't have a plan."

"Halt cares for me. He won't leave us here, even if Crowley tries to convince him otherwise." Troy let his wolf smile slip back across his face.

"We use Halt then, I thought you wanted to stay away from him?" Troy said teasingly. Conlan had a glint in his eye.

"I do. But I also want him to feel pain. Not kill him though. We'll use him as a means of protection, he'll think we're finally back but imagine his pain when we run away again. We simply take care of our business at night. Halt won't let himself believe what we've become and when we get better, we can just run out," Conlan answered and matched Troy's grin.

"Sounds fine with me."

* * *

Crowley walked down the hall with several bottles he had found stashed away in Halt's room. Earlier he'd had a servant clean out Halt's quarters and he had spent some time looking around for places Halt may have hidden his drinks. The light from the low sun shone through the windows as he made his way past the infirmary.

"Crowley!" a voice called as he passed the door. Stopping, Crowley turned around with his hands full. Lucas was standing in the doorway. "Let me help you," Lucas said as he grabbed a few bottles from Crowley. Nodding his thanks, Crowley followed the healer into the spacious infirmary.

Torches placed evenly along the wall cast shadows across the room. To the left were three doors leading to different rooms while on the right were cots with curtains drawn around them to provide privacy. Chairs were placed by the door they had just entered through and two guards were standing at the ready by the door farthest from the entrance. On the far wall facing the entrance were large cupboards.

Lucas set his bottles down on a chair, peering at the labels as he did so. Crowley followed his example then took a seat himself. He hadn't gotten much sleep lately and doubted he could with the problem of Conlan. Lucas gave a low whistle.

"Where did you get these?" the healer questioned as he straightened.

"Halt's room, we're clearing it out," Crowley explained.

"He uses strong stuff, mind if I keep it? It could come in handy with some patients," Lucas said. Crowley nodded; he had no clue what he had planned to do with the liquor.

"What's up with Halt?" the commandant asked once Lucas had returned from placing the bottles in his cupboard.

"Earlier Pauline came in and she managed to get Halt to drink the tea but he fell into unconsciousness afterwards. I didn't send anybody to update you because his condition was really just the same. He woke up about an hour ago and I want to keep him here so we can treat him. That is what you were planning to do?" Lucas asked.

"I was hoping," Crowley answered, Lucas nodded.

"I wanted to keep him here to do that. The problem being he isn't fond of the idea. He's practically worn himself out struggling against his bonds. I was hoping that you might be able to convince him. Pauline looked a little shaken; I don't think she can handle seeing Halt like he is."

"I'll try," Crowley said with a sigh. Halt had to be the most stubborn person he knew, there was little chance he could convince Halt to do something he didn't want to do. "What about the other one?"

"He's awake as well, hasn't said a word to any of us though. I tried to question him like you asked but he just refuses to speak. He doesn't even eat," Lucas reported. Crowley fought back his annoyance; he was getting really tired of Conlan.

"I'll go see Halt," Crowley said as he stood up.

**No, not the best chapter, please review**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I do not own Ranger's Apprentice or any of its characters**

Crowley entered the room to find Halt staring blankly at the ceiling. Halt absently glanced at Crowley but otherwise remained silent and still. He looked a significant amount better than he had in a while. Though his eyes were slightly bloodshot and he looked like he had just gotten out of bed. The cut he had suffered in the skirmish with Conlan was bandaged and didn't seem like it was major.

"What do you want?" Halt asked in a neutral tone. Crowley was a bit confused; Lucas had made it seem that Halt was aggravated when it seemed the Ranger was almost the opposite. Though it did sound like he was in an odd mood for Halt.

"To talk to you, preferably without you getting angry," Crowley answered and tried for a smile but found it forced. Halt glared at him.

"There's not much I can do if I do get angry," he said a bit annoyed. Crowley, for the first time, noticed Halt was bound by his wrists, ankles and neck to the cot.

"Halt, you need to stay. And stay willingly if you're going to get better," Crowley said, taking a seat beside his friend. There was no reason to go about and lay it gently. It all added up the same to Halt.

"No," Halt replied predictably. "I'm fine."

"Fine isn't hallucinating, fine isn't throwing up every five minutes and fine most definitely is not trying to distance yourself from everybody," Crowley said heatedly, partly due to his tiredness and partly because he was sick of Halt staying like this. "Tell me; tell me why you are so bent on staying a drunk. Five years ago you couldn't stand drunks. If you had it your way, all of them would have a knife through them. So tell me what changed Halt," Crowley demanded. Halt simply looked at him for a moment. There wasn't any anger in his eyes though.

"Everything," Halt answered and looked back up at the ceiling. He could think clearly now and his headache was dulled somewhat. Along with that, his stomach was finally settled and he didn't have the sense of fear and death lingering over him. Thinking back, it was hard to recall something that hadn't changed. "Conlan ran off, Will died, I gave up, and Pauline left." Halt huffed in an amused way and gave a grim smirk. "Hell, I'm not even a Ranger anymore, just a drunk with a title. It's hard to see something that didn't change," Halt said. Crowley could have sworn the man seemed depressed and was a bit surprised by the response. If anything, he'd expected Halt to start threatening him to leave. Anger now gone, Crowley thought for a moment. To busy himself so he could think of a response, Crowley drew his saxe and cut the bonds holding Halt. It didn't seem right to have him tied up like that. When it was done, Halt pretended not to notice.

"Then why don't you try to make it better Halt?"

"Because I can remember everything I've made happen and everything that has changed. You don't know what it feels like to remember things like that," Halt said with a hardened voice.

"I've lived through it all as well Halt. Conlan leaving didn't impact me nearly as much as it did you but the loss of Will hit everybody like a boulder. We may not have gone through everything you did but we were forced to watch what you did to yourself," Crowley answered after a pause. "What we don't get is why you aren't even trying."

"I'm not staying here," Halt answered after a pause. "Not when I finally have Conlan back."

"Halt, he's not the same," Crowley said a little pleadingly. "He tried to kill you in the forest; he's just not him anymore." Halt's features grew angry.

"Neither am I. He's my son and I'm the reason he left. I finally have him back and I'm not going to sit here having healers force herbs down my throat," Halt replied angrily.

"Halt-"

"I'm not staying," Halt growled and sat up in his bed.

"How about this," Crowley said in a calm tone. "I'll get Lucas to let you go back to living in your apartment if I can stay with you until you're better. You'll have to take what Lucas gives me for you though," Crowley said.

"Conlan is going with me," Halt said.

"He tried to kill you Halt," Crowley said a bit incredulously. How Halt seemed to be ignoring that fact, Crowley couldn't figure out.

"No, he wouldn't do something like that," Halt said, trying to convince himself more than Crowley.

The two lapsed into silence, glaring at each other. Halt was by far the most stubborn but Crowley could hold out for a considerable time. So far Crowley couldn't put Conlan in custody or anything. Sure, he had a suspicion and it was almost plain obvious but Conlan wasn't talking and Halt seemed to be in his defense. Not only that, but Halt was found half insane and with his knife buried in Conlan's gut. And technically Crowley couldn't keep Conlan or Halt in the infirmary against their will. All in all, he was at the losing side. The only way he could get Conlan put away was if he tried to kill Halt and was found with the weapon or witnessed.

"Fine," Crowley said after a few minutes. Maybe if he just stayed by Halt's side, Conlan would simply leave or make a move that he could be arrested for.

* * *

"Halt, you're going to have to do it sometime," Crowley said. Halt sat across the table from him in a new chair that had been brought when the apartment was restored. Conlan was currently residing in the guest bedroom where he had lived as a child while Crowley took refuge on the couch. It was late morning now and Crowley had convinced Halt to drink the mixture Lucas had prepared for him.

"No, she doesn't need to know. Not now, she hates me as it is, if I tell her about Conlan, who knows what might happen," Halt responded curtly. Crowley shook his head.

"Pauline needs to know Halt," Crowley persisted.

"Why haven't you already told her then?" Halt asked irritably. Though the mixture calmed him down, his head still ached dully and his mood never improved any. Lucas had stressed the point that Halt wasn't to have coffee or alcohol which was causing him to be more cross than might be expected.

"Because he's not my son," Crowley countered. "I have to go speak with Aaron about the bandits in the forest, please just tell her. She doesn't hate you Halt, and she deserves to know," Crowley added as he stood up, not waiting for a reply from Halt. He was a bit tempted to check in on Conlan to see if the boy was up to anything but decided against it. He needed to go see Aaron about the bandits and Lucas had assured him that Troy most likely wouldn't be capable of anything. Along with that, Halt had refused to let him disturb Conlan under the excuse that he needed rest. Without seeing if Halt had anything more to say, Crowley left the apartment.

* * *

Troy stood before a plain wooden door in one of the buildings by the battleschool. Through the door was the battlemaster's quarters. After he had snuck out of Halt's apartment in the earlier hours of the morning, Troy had gathered some old clothes and gone to Wensley. Disguised as a traveler, Troy had spent his morning asking around about Jason, claiming the man to be an old friend. Apparently he was now Rodney's partner in ruling the battleschool at Redmont but Rodney had moved up to the castle with his wife. After hearing that, Troy had ditched his traveler appearance and dispatched of a knight, taking the man's armor. After requesting an audience with Jason, Troy had been directed here. With a smile worthy of a wolf, Troy knocked on the door. There was a muffled response and he opened the door, clutching the hilt of a sword at his waist. Closing the door behind him, Troy entered the small living space and fought back his desire to lop Jason's head off then and there. Jason looked up from a paper he was reading at a table in the middle of the room. The room was simple, only containing the bare necessities. Windows looking out across the battleschool grounds granted light.

"You wanted to speak to me Filmore?" Jason asked in a deep voice.

"I prefer you call me by my real name," Troy said, removing his helmet. Jason frowned a little. Then he saw Troy's eyes. "You may know me as Conlan."

**Yay! Violence and possible death coming soon! Not something I should be happy for...or you...anywho, I know Halt was slightly off but please review:D**


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I do not own Ranger's Apprentice or any of its characters**

**It's half an hour to midnight where I am, you should feel special, I stayed up especially late to finish this so I could make up for not updating during the week**

When the door swung shut behind Crowley, Halt stood up and made his way to the fireplace. Removing a stone from the outside, Halt revealed a small compartment with three bottles stashed away. After grabbing them and replacing the stone, Halt straightened and came face to face with Pauline. At least, a portrait of her. Halt stopped and stared at the small frame that held the portrait. It had been drawn at the market before any of this mess had started. Pauline had convinced an irritated Halt to have a little fun. His portrait had been discarded when he claimed the artist had intentionally given him more grey hair then he claimed he had. Halt set the bottles down on the mantle before he grabbed the frame and placed it so the portrait was no longer visible.

Sitting down on the couch, Halt went to uncork his bottle but froze, thoughts stuck on Pauline. He had no clue what happened the night she had left. There was one of the vague impressions, this one of yelling, but not much else. Halt set his bottle down on the floor by his feet and buried his face in his hands. There was so much he was missing; he hoped he hadn't harmed her. If that happened, he didn't know what he'd wind up as. Not telling her about Conlan would hurt her, he knew that. Especially if she found out what he had done to the boy from anybody but himself. Getting agitated, Halt stood suddenly and grabbed his cloak, putting the cowl up, before walking out the door.

It took a bit to find Pauline's room as he had only really been there once to try and convince her to come back. He hadn't entered or even knocked though, choosing to go back to his own room. Before he could think too much, Halt reached forward and rapped his knuckles against the door. There were a few moments of silence in which he debated going away but before he could move, the door opened, revealing Pauline in a simple dress. Halt didn't say anything, opting to let her say something first.

"Hello Halt," she said formally and Halt felt himself wince internally. Formal was not something he wanted her to sound like.

"Pauline," he answered with a slight bow of his head. "I need to talk to you." Pauline didn't seem sure and Halt found himself wondering what he might have done. "Please," he added.

"I have a meeting in an hour," Pauline said not unkindly, standing aside so Halt could enter. Halt nodded and walked past her. The door closed behind him and he looked around. The room was almost an exact copy of his apartment, as most housing rooms in the castle were. Torches on the walls provided more than enough light as Halt took a seat at a table. Pauline went to the stove and poured two cups of tea. "I don't have coffee," she said as she set a mug in front of him.

Halt didn't do anything, he left the mug untouched as he silently watched her take her seat. It seemed easier to imagine this conversation then have it. Halt was about to start telling her about Conlan when something caught his attention. She was drumming her left hand lightly against the table but something was missing.

"Your ring," he said lamely. Under his cowl, he maintained his grim appearance though he felt confused on multiple levels. "It's gone." Pauline stopped her tapping and looked at him apologetically.

"Halt, I didn't want to but after I moved out there was too much talking about it all. Removing the ring stopped some of it," Pauline answered.

"I have to go," Halt said gruffly and stood up. He turned and started for the door but before he could get to it, a hand grabbed him by the arm.

"Wait."

Halt turned to face Pauline, shaking her hand off in the process. Before he could say something, he noticed a line on Pauline's face spanning from the outer corner of her right eye to the corner of her mouth. Upon closer inspection, he realized it was a scar.

"What happened?" he demanded. Pauline stayed silent for a moment.

"You were drunk. Halt, it was nothing, really, you didn't know-"

"I have to go, Crowley will be coming back soon," Halt said and turned back to the door. Before she could stop him again, Halt managed to close the door and fade into the shadows of the corridor.

It was a few minutes before he found himself back in his own apartment on the couch. Reaching down to where he had set his bottles, Halt grabbed one and uncorked it.

"Bottoms up," he mumbled.

* * *

"What are you doing here?" Jason asked, a bit unnerved by the dangerous glint in Troy's eyes. Without thinking, his hand moved to the hilt of his own sword and he prepared himself to move.

"I have some business in Redmont, I figured I'd drop by to see an old friend," Troy replied and took a step forward, his right hand still on the hilt of his weapon. Jason was watching his right hand, judging times and distances to see when to make a move. "I take it you remember me."

"There's memories," Jason replied. He clearly remembered the times he had mocked Conlan and even some occasions where he had convinced his group to take physical action. After Conlan had run off, Halt had found out and had had to be restrained from harming Jason. That was in the past as far as Jason was concerned but he could see Conlan wasn't over it.

"Good, it's time you paid for that," Troy growled and threw something with his left hand. Jason had been watching his right hand, the one on his sword hilt, while Troy had slipped a dagger out of its sheath with his left hand. His training made sure he could throw accurately with both hands and Troy smiled as the blade stuck into Jason's chest. The battlemaster released his grip on his own weapon and his hands scrambled around the hilt of the knife. He tried to call out but Troy calmly placed the tip of his sword against the man's throat. "Bye," Troy said before plunging the weapon into Jason.

There was a strangled cry as Jason went limp and toppled out of his chair. Troy, a cruel and humorless smile on, removed the armor he had taken until he was in his regular attire. Looking down at the figure, Troy spit on him.

"That was a bit much," Conlan said. Troy spun around so he was facing his likeness.

"He deserved it," Troy replied, bending down to retrieve his knife. "Let's just go," Troy added before Conlan could reply.

Making his way out of the room, Troy closed the door behind him and strode down the hall as if nothing had happened. About ten minutes later he found himself back at Halt's apartment. There was no noise coming from inside so he cracked the door open. Inside it was light and seemingly empty so Troy pushed the door the rest of the way. He went to walk back to his room but stopped when he passed Halt who was passed out on the couch with a bottle in his hand.

"Tannor isn't going to excuse us. No matter how many others we kill, they can't add up to what Halt is worth," Troy said quietly.

"I know," Conlan answered, he was looking down at Halt like Troy was. "We can't handle it though."

"Maybe we could, if we just forgot about it," Troy said softly, he was clutching his dagger in his right hand.

**This is fun, please review**


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: I do not own Ranger's Apprentice or any of its characters**

**Sorry this didn't come as fast as I wanted it to, I'm doing my best. Hmmm...I need to study for German...Der Kuli...there, all done**

**Oh and in this chapter Troy and Conlan do switch places**

Conlan lowered his knife so the blade rested upon Halt's neck, he didn't press into the flesh though. It was odd really, for most his life he had actually looked up to Halt, though there were times that he was flooded with fury at his constant departures. There had even been some times where Halt had gotten angry and Conlan had actually feared him. No matter what though, it just didn't feel right for some reason. Maybe it was because he didn't want to or maybe because he just couldn't imagine the great Halt dying at his blade while passed out and drunk.

"Don't think about it," Troy said, he was standing next to Conlan with an unreadable expression.

Conlan cast his thoughts aside and put a little pressure upon the blade. A thin ribbon of blood appeared but before he could do anything more, he felt something sharp pressed against the middle of his back. Troy was gone now and Conlan released his hold on his blade, leaving it to clatter to the floor. The pressure upon his back didn't leave though.

"I'm not going to do it," Conlan stated, letting his hand rest at his sides.

"Get away from him," Crowley snarled. Conlan obeyed without qualm and sat in a chair by the fireplace. Crowley kept his saxe knife in hand as he inspected the slight cut on Halt's neck, it was bleeding some but wasn't fatal. "Give me one reason I shouldn't kill you right now," Crowley stated flatly as he turned to face Conlan. The young man shrugged.

"There isn't one. In fact, I'm a bit surprised I'm still living at the moment," Conlan said back smoothly, he was watching Crowley with a bit of a challenge in his eyes. Crowley hadn't been that involved with him in the past except for the times Conlan had been around Halt but he wasn't sure if he wanted him dead or not. He had learned early on that it was better to look ready for a fight rather than appear uncertain though.

"Why are you here?" Crowley snapped and Conlan frowned.

"Well I suppose it's because this is my home," he replied though he hadn't called Redmont home for some time now.

"You've been gone for five years, why come back?" Crowley said sharply. He still held his knife in his hand.

"Because I need to kill him," Conlan answered, nodding his head towards Halt. He said it casually though it wasn't as simple as it sounded.

"Why not in the forest then? Even with a knife in you, you would have been able to overtake him. And don't tell me that you were too wounded because I know you were about today."

"I may be an assassin but I have some sense of honor. Halt was out of his mind, I'm not going to kill somebody if they don't know they're about to die," Conlan lied. In truth he did have some honor, just not enough to stop him when it came to the matter of killing. Crowley glared at him, clearly not believing him.

"Who wants you to kill him?"

"I'm a mercenary, there've been many employers and most times they don't give me names," Conlan answered easily, it was a lie he had told many of his captors. Again Crowley gave him that look.

"Why did you kill Jason?" Crowley asked and Conlan was caught a bit off guard by the question.

"Because he made my life hell when I lived here," Conlan answered. He had never denied his actions when it came to killing. What little pride he had left of himself prevented him from lying about something like that.

"Murder is a crime worthy of death," Crowley said gravely.

"Maybe that'd be best," Conlan snapped back, it was frustrating thinking through what was happening and he was developing a headache. Beyond a doubt, he wanted Halt dead. At least, he thought he did. Maybe he didn't. Conlan shook his head, it was confusing to him.

"Conlan, what happened to you?" Crowley asked with a sigh.

"What the hell does it look like happened to me?" Conlan said with an amused huff. "I changed."

"You know what I mean. Why did you run off in the first place?" Crowley pressed. The question had bothered many people, most importantly Halt, after he had run off and Crowley was determined to get some answers.

"Halt," he growled. Crowley went to ask something else. "Everybody expected something big of me," Conlan said before Crowley could ask what he wanted. Now the commandant fell silent, surprised by the youth's words. "Not once was I ever just Conlan, I was either the great Halt's son or the amazing Pauline's son. Halt didn't even give a damn, he just left," Conlan said angrily and ran a hand through his hair. "I have to go now," Conlan added and stood up. He was a bit shorter than Crowley but not by more than an inch.

"I can't let you do that, you admitted to murder of Jason," Crowley stated. Conlan smirked and shook his head.

"You Rangers and your sense of duty," Conlan said and turned around. Crowley debated going after him when he remembered Halt lying on the couch behind him, drunk as a skunk. The door closed behind Conlan and Crowley looked down at Halt. His neck had stopped bleeding and didn't seem bad.

Walking out the door, Crowley flagged down one of the servants running down the hall. Giving him orders to get a bucket of water, Crowley returned to Halt. The bottle was still clutched in his hand which was hanging off the couch. The stench of alcohol reached Crowley's nostrils and he angrily grabbed the bottle out of Halt's hand. Frustration mounting up inside him, Crowley threw the bottle across the room so it shattered against the wall.

"Wake up Halt," the commandant ordered and shook Halt roughly. Halt moaned and Crowley shook him again, not very nicely.

"Stop," Halt growled, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. He rubbed his eyes and was barely in time to bend over when he threw up. When he was finished, he sat up and waited for Crowley's customary speech about how he had to stop with his actions. It didn't come through. "Well?" Halt asked.

"What?" Crowley said, arms crossed over his chest.

"Go on, tell me how I've messed everything up and how I have to stop," Halt said. There was a bitter taste in his mouth and he wanted Crowley to get over his talking and then get him water and bread.

"I'm done with that Halt, it's obviously not working. You got my hopes up when we finally got you to drink that tea and now, now I find you on the couch drunk again. Did you even go to see Pauline?" Crowley finished in a pleading voice. Halt glared at him.

"Of course I did and maybe if I hadn't, I wouldn't be like this now," Halt snarled and clenched his teeth, his head felt awful as it always did. Crowley didn't look at him. "You knew what I did and you still made me go." Crowley didn't answer. "Just get out," Halt ordered and stood up. He was unsteady but didn't ask for or receive help from his commandant.

"As always, it was great seeing you Halt," Crowley replied dryly before striding out the door. Halt grabbed a bottle and made his way to the table where he collapsed into the chair. Before he could do anything else, a servant burst in with a pail of water. He stopped in his tracks at the withering look Halt delivered. Placing the pail on the table, the servant hurried out.

Halt sighed, Crowley had never just walked out on him when he needed him like now and it annoyed him. Had he really changed that much? The image of Pauline's scar came back into mind with a sharp pang.

"Dammit," growled Halt and set his bottle down, reaching for the sack on the table that held the herbs he was supposed to add to tea.

**No, not the best, no, not a lot of action, yes, OOC, but it sets things up for the next chapter after which you will most likely hate me...please review**


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I do not own Ranger's Apprentice or any of its characters**

**This chapter is a whole lot shorter than the others but I wanted to leave it where it was and I didn't want to start babbling on and describing every little thing so I could reach 1000 words so yea, sorry for the lack of words but I'm going to try and finish the story by next Friday. I know this isn't as good as Closer Ties but I'm finding it hard to top that so I hope you're enjoying this a little bit at least**

Conlan stormed down the hall and turned several random corners before sitting down in the shadows. He guessed the sun was just starting to lower in the sky and debated just leaving Redmont. Maybe he could hide from Tannor for a suitable time before facing the inevitable. There was no way he was going to be able to run forever; Tannor would surely send Thanatos out after him if he didn't return within a reasonable time. There was also no way he was going to be able to explain why he couldn't kill Halt. He still wasn't exactly sure on the matter though he was starting to lean towards the excuse that maybe he didn't want to. Looking back, he couldn't exactly pinpoint why he was so angry with his father. Perhaps it was because he knew that whatever he did, he'd never exactly be like Halt. Crowley's question rang through his mind. What had happened to him? Angrily, Conlan stood and ran straight into a tall and muscular man that looked to be a knight. Judging by the smell and the look on the man's face, he was drunk.

"Where ye think yer going?" growled the man in slurred speech. Conlan didn't answer. "Do you know who I am?" the man snarled and shoved Conlan by the shoulders. Conlan stumbled backwards a few steps and grabbed his second knife that was in its sheath on his hip. The man was advancing towards him and looked furious. Conlan sized him up, he was at least a head bigger than him but they seemed evenly matched in terms of muscle. Conlan even had the upper hand as the other man was drunk and therefore his mind was cloudy.

Thinking fast, Conlan darted towards the man, knife held at the ready. The knight swung a fist at him but his reaction was late and clumsy; Conlan easily avoided it then darted forwards again. His knife passed through the knight's stomach and he bent over. Giving no mercy, Conlan quickly stabbed the man in the back of the neck, killing him almost instantly. The knight collapsed to the floor at Conlan's feet, a pool of blood forming. There was a startled yell behind Conlan and he quickly turned, lashing out with his knife as he did so. The blade struck the mystery person across the face, causing her to take a few steps backward, away from the deadly weapon. Conlan advanced hurriedly and went to dispatch whoever it was. He lunged forward and his eyes caught sight of the woman's face. It was Pauline. Trying to stop, Conlan managed to keep his knife from delivering a fatal blow but the blade still sliced into her stomach. She collapsed to the floor leaving Conlan standing in shock.

"Do something!" Troy growled from Conlan's left. Conlan spun angrily to face the hallucination.

"What the hell am I supposed to do?" he shouted. "I can't bring her to the infirmary; they'll have me in a cell before I can blink! Crowley wouldn't just let me off like that; he's probably put the whole castle on alert!" Conlan raged. Troy looked calm.

"Fine then, leave your mother to die here. It's not like you've broken out of dungeons before," Troy replied icily. Conlan glanced down at Pauline who was breathing raggedly; her white courier's dress had a large red stain that was starting to spread.

Hurriedly, Conlan bent down and draped one of her arms across his shoulders so he could help her up. Pauline was able to help with some of her weight but Conlan knew they'd need help if there was any chance of them getting to the infirmary before something happened. Shifting Pauline some, Conlan got a better hold though he felt blood running onto him.

"Let me help," Crowley said from the other side of Pauline. Conlan jumped, almost losing his hold but calmed when he saw the commandant.

"How much did you see?" Conlan asked.

"Get moving," Crowley said, ignoring the question. He had Pauline's other arm draped around his shoulder so he and Conlan were basically carrying her. Conlan obeyed and they started down the hallway at a fast pace.

* * *

Halt stared at the door, the effects of the tea were taking effect and he felt calmer and not as angry as he had been. He debated what to do, through the windows he could see the sun sinking in the sky but he didn't feel the least bit tired, if anything he felt a bit more awake. The events of the day played through his mind and it occurred to him that he hadn't seen Conlan at all since his arrival. Standing up, Halt strode to the door leading into the guest bedroom and knocked. There was no answer so he pushed the door open to find an empty room. Confused, Halt turned around, thinking where his son might have gone. Remembering the wound Conlan had in his stomach, Halt came to the conclusion that he might find him with Lucas. Grabbing his cloak, Halt left his apartment to go to the infirmary.

When he reached it, there was a certain buzz. Tristan, Lucas' apprentice, hurried by and disappeared into a room. Halt caught sight of Crowley who was sitting in a chair looking worried while Conlan sat in another chair away from the commandant murmuring to himself. Conlan glanced upwards and saw Halt. He stood and made his way to his father.

"I'm sorry Halt, I swear I didn't mean to. I…she…I don't know why, and-"Conlan rambled hurriedly, placing his blood covered hands up in defense.

"What are you going on about?" Halt questioned, interrupting Conlan's babble. He looked worried as well though fear was woven into his eyes and Halt even detected misery. Crowley had stood and joined them; he looked at Conlan with some anger.

"Tell him," Crowley demanded. Conlan looked at Halt helplessly.

"I stabbed Pauline."

**Uh oh...I realized that Pauline is rarely in other fics and even then she never gets injured so I've put it upon myself to make that happene. If there is a fic like that though and any of you know of it, I'd be interested to read it. Please review**


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: I do not own Ranger's Apprentice or any of its characters**

Halt looked at Crowley, not exactly believing what he had heard. This was his son, the one that he had finally gotten back after five years, telling him that he had stabbed Pauline, the wife that he had lost and hoped to get back. The commandant showed no sign of denying the statement and before anybody could blink, Halt had Conlan by his shirt, shoved against the stone wall. Conlan showed no sign of trying to struggle, instead opting to stay still and wait to see what happened.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Halt snarled, his accent making his words a slurred mess. Conlan was cowering like a rat on the inside but outside he was the in the same shocked state he had been when he had stabbed Pauline.

"I…I don't know," he finally managed to say, his voice was shaky. Not only had he possibly killed his mother but, now Halt held him against a wall in pure fury. The realization of what he had done was hitting him and it was hitting him hard. What had he done? He had killed too many people in the past to count but never had he actually felt for them. He had even been ready to kill Halt, had he really become that different? So messed up that, given the chance and without his condition, he would have sliced the Ranger's throat without a second thought?

Halt just looked at his son, anger coursing through his body and displayed upon his face that was only a few inches from his son's. Though the main feature was one of fury, Conlan saw something like disappointment in Halt's eyes and if anything, that made his insides twist. Conlan shifted his gaze and focused on the ceiling, at this point he really wouldn't have cared if Halt stabbed him. Something had snapped in him, seeing Pauline lying on the floor and now having to accept the fact that she might be dead because of him was overwhelming. Not only that, but now he saw the one thing in Halt's eyes that, even when he had hated his father, had made him feel like poking his eyes out with a knife. Preferably a sharp one.

"I'm sorry," Conlan mumbled when Halt said nothing.

"Sorry can't fix a damned thing can it?" Halt growled, Conlan could have sworn his voice was backed by not just anger but sadness as well. He shoved Conlan onto the floor roughly. Before Halt could do anything else, Lucas and Tristan emerged from a room. Lucas was calm as always as Tristan rushed out of the infirmary.

"How is she?" Crowley asked, noticing Halt was a bit too angry to say anything sensible and Conlan wasn't going to for fear of Halt doing something to him. Lucas looked at Halt.

"She's conscious now. We had to give her something to ease the pain though. She seems fine at the moment," Lucas answered.

"But?" Crowley prompted, sensing it.

"I think you and I should talk about this in private," Lucas said to Crowley, removing his eyes from Halt to look at the commandant.

"I want to hear it," Halt interjected, ignoring Conlan as he stood up a bit nervously.

"I wouldn't recommend it in your current state Halt, with you going through the withdrawal treatment, you're a bit depressed. I don't think this would help anything," Lucas explained, turning back to the grim man. Halt shook his head.

"I want to hear this, she's…," Halt said, unsure of how to finish his sentence. She was his wife but after realizing what he had done to her, he wasn't so sure he should hold the title of her husband. Lucas glanced at Crowley, not trying to push Halt to finish the sentence.

"Might as well," the commandant said. Lucas nodded and looked somberly at Halt.

"She's bleeding more than she should, I don't believe the knife hit anything vital but the bleeding could be a problem if it doesn't stop and the wound would have to close in order for that. There are also some symptoms of a concussion. When she came in a month ago, she had a concussion as well and you said she fell onto the floor after you stabbed her?" Lucas asked Conlan who was standing beside Halt.

"Yes," Conlan choked, finding it hard to speak past the lump in his throat.

"After somebody gets a concussion once, it takes less of an impact to give them another one. I think that Lady Pauline may have hit her head on the floor when she fell. As far as I can tell, if the bleeding stops, the concussion will be fine as well but she's not as young as she once was," Lucas said. "It's too early to tell though."

"Why did she come in with a concussion?" Halt demanded, his heart rate picking up as the only possibility came to mind. Lucas opened his mouth, only to close it and think for a moment. Halt waited not so patiently for an answer.

"I only know this from what little she told me. You were…in a state so to speak, and were a bit angrier than usual. Apparently she tried several times to calm you down but you-"Lucas didn't have time to finish as Halt spun around and headed out the door to the infirmary. "You might want to go after him, he's not in his right mind at the moment, even with the tea," Lucas said and Crowley nodded. Not noticing Conlan's absence, Crowley rushed out the door after his friend.

* * *

Conlan hurried out of the room when he found his chance. Heading down the corridor at a brisk pace, he couldn't think through what was happening. He passed windows that looked down into the square and found that the sun was gone from the sky and a small party was making its way across the drawbridge, therefore the bridge was still lowered.

"Where are you going?" Troy asked, appearing beside him and matching his pace.

"Someplace to think," Conlan answered curtly.

"We should just leave now," Troy said. Conlan stopped suddenly in the middle of a long hallway.

"I'm not leaving now. I can't return to Tannor," he snapped angrily. Troy turned to face him.

"You've messed up enough around here. I never said we had to return to Tannor, we could slip out of Redmont and change our identity. As long as we keep an eye covered we can't be that distinguishable," Troy replied calmly.

"What about Pauline then? I've never seen Halt that angry before, he sees us as a failure now, I can't live with that. What the hell have we done?" Conlan looked at the flickering light of the torches on the walls, shadows danced around making the hallway come to life. He couldn't figure out why Halt's opinion of him mattered so much all the sudden. It was a look that he had never experienced before but what anybody would recognize had it been shot at them.

"That's it isn't it? You're going soft!" he growled. Conlan looked at him angrily.

"I've never seen Halt like that; he's never laid a finger on me. If Pauline possibly dying does that to him, what happens when she dies? I don't care if I've changed; I'm not going to walk off like this when she's lying on her deathbed. You and I both know that she's not going to make it. And I know that I can never live this down, I'm not leaving. We've killed so many people while working with Tannor just because he told us to and all we did after was run. The worst part is that we believed that it was the right thing but look at it now! How many of them actually deserved to die?" Conlan raged. Troy raised an eyebrow.

"I don't know and nor do I care. You accidently stabbed somebody, so what?" he snapped. "For the past five years I've done my best to cover up our past and forget it and now you're just dragging it back up. I thought you were done with these people."

"Maybe I was once," Conlan growled and took off down the hallway in a pointless attempt to ditch Troy.

**Please review**


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: I do not own Ranger's Apprentice or any of its characters**

**Okay, I know a lot of this story has just been filler and most of you are beyond bored with it and let me tell you, there isn't going to be epic fight scenes like Closer Ties, in fact this might end in like four more chapters or so, there is going to be excitement (well that's what I would consider it) but nothing close to Closer Ties.**

**Oh and to Artemis: If you're reading this, this is in response to your review for Bravery, the pig was in reference to the boar that Halt conquered at the boar hunt so Will would have seen that becuase the Kalkara hunt was the ending to the book basically. When I wrote assassins, I meant the Kalkara because that's what they were but I see how that could be confusing. Thanks for the review though:D**

_Conlan slunk along the riverbank, using everything Halt had taught him in his life to stay unseen. The night was a nice one, the full moon lighting up things to form one of those perfect summer nights. To his left, the river snaked along like a ribbon of silver and he was tempted to simply sit down and look at it, it was one of his favorite sights after all, but he had something else to do at the moment. He was only thirteen and had decided he'd had enough of living in Halt's shadow, especially after earlier in the day when Halt had thought simply talking to him could make up for all the times he had left. Now Conlan was heading towards a small copse of trees he had discovered at a young age when running down to the riverbank for a few hours was his idea of running away. The grove was a small one and he figured it would be the last place anybody would expect him to be, he'd never been spotted going to or leaving from it as far as he could tell. It wasn't really that much of a hiding place and he always returned after a day or so but in his mind it was the only place he had ever known where he could be alone in a sense. And alone with himself was what he needed to be most the time._

Now the night sky was black as clouds shot across it, blocking the brilliant stars. Conlan lay on his back with his eyes closed, listening to the sounds around him and letting tears roll down his cheeks. Surrounding him, the trees were lit with the little light from the moon that broke the cloud barrier. He resisted the urge to shudder against the slight wind and simply lay spread out on the damp ground, mist swirling around him. It was hard for him; the reality of the past five years was hitting him like a Ranger horse stampede and he simply couldn't cope with it all.

"Get over it," Troy snapped in his mind. Conlan kept his eyes closed tightly and took a shuddering breath; he seemed utterly broken at the moment. The image of Halt in a pure fury was branded in his mind along with the now unmistakable look of disappointment. Not only that, but he could see in shocking detail Pauline as she was helped into the infirmary room with a giant red stain across her midsection. Though those were the most prominent things in his mind at the moment, images of his other kills raced about at the fringes of his mind.

"Go away," Conlan said shakily.

"Just get up and move on," Troy snarled demandingly. "We need to leave now before we get shoved in a cell."

"I said go away!" Conlan yelled, jumping to his feet and covering his ears with his hands. He knew from experience that it wasn't going to help anything but he was fed up with his problem. This wasn't the first time either, he'd learned to deal with it but he'd always hated it. Hated the fact that he had a weakness and hated everything about his condition, how he fought with himself and how it was hard to work with. Never had he told anybody though because he didn't want to admit there was something wrong with him, especially something like hearing voices. If any of the farmers heard about that, they would have run him out of Redmont and Tannor would have most definitely killed him as the problem could interfere with missions.

Conlan fell to his knees on the ground with his eyes shut as tight as they could be and his hands clasped over his ears. Tears streamed down his face from frustration and anything else that he felt in the total mess he called himself at the moment. He was only a few seconds from insanity when he felt a hand on his shoulder

* * *

Halt walked down the hallway from the infirmary with a particular destination in mind. Staying in the shadows and using his cloak to his advantage, Halt slipped through the corridors. Crowley followed easily though, he was a Ranger and shadows from the torches weren't the best cover for Halt to slip through. Finally Halt got fed up with leading Crowley on a roundabout way to his destination. Stopping suddenly, Halt spun around.

"What? What do you want now?" Halt said, his features hidden by his cowl. Crowley stopped a few paces from Halt.

"Let's go back to your rooms Halt, I know that you're upset right now-"

"You don't know a damn thing about me at the moment Crowley. Have you lost your son then have him return and stab…stab Pauline?" Halt growled, getting aggravated at his lack of a title for Pauline. "Because unless you have, you have no clue what I am right now."

"Halt, you're just like this because of the withdrawal, just calm down and-"

"Yes, Crowley it's because of the withdrawal, it's not like my son finally came back and stabbed Pauline. It's not because Pauline may die and it's most definitely not because I'm a drunk bastard that needs his life back. It's not because of any of that, it's because I'm going through withdrawal," Halt raged.

"Where are you going?" Crowley asked falsely calm. There was no point in arguing with Halt, what he needed was to get his friend back to his rooms.

"Nowhere that concerns you," Halt snapped in a dangerous tone.

"Halt, I swear, if you're going to get drunk, I'll-"

"You'll what Crowley? Yell at me? Lock me in a room until I come to my senses? What are you going to do? Because quite honestly, there's not much left you can do that will affect me all that much."

"If you get drunk then I'm just going to give up Halt. Maybe that will help you, not having anybody there. Maybe then you'll realize things need to change, if not, then you can drown yourself and drink away your life. Have fun with that because I should have stopped trying years ago," Crowley answered angrily.

Halt didn't bother replying, instead opting to continue down the corridor, now lacking Crowley as a shadow behind him. He hurried down to the drawbridge where the guards were just giving orders to have the bridge pulled up. Swiftly and silently, Halt slipped across the bridge and to the other side, he needed to visit someplace before he went to find Conlan. For he had seen his son slip out of the infirmary, and he knew where he might be.

**Please Review**


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: I do not own Ranger's Apprentice or any of its characters**

**I would like to thank Mychele O'Carrik of Clonmel and JustaBunchaHOOPLA for helping bucket loads with this chapter**

Halt slipped out of the shop like a shadow. He had been lucky, the owner was a careless because he lived above the shop and the door had remained unlocked. In his hand, Halt held a hard case containing one of the most important things to him. He hadn't been able to keep it in his apartment though, it was too much of a reminder and he had wanted to make sure it would stay in good condition. Arald had kindly asked the owner a favor and that was where the item had been for the past five years. Silently striding through Wensley in the shadows, Halt slipped around a corner so he was at the back door to a low building that was still open and busy despite the time of night. Glancing over his shoulder once, Halt cracked the door open and slid inside. Ten minutes later he was back out and making his way to a small grove of trees on the side of the river that ran by the village. He heard yelling and picked up his pace as he pushed past some low bushes.

When he got to a place where the trees were spread out a bit more, Halt rushed forward. Conlan was on his knees with tears streaming down his face. Even in the dim light and slight fog, Halt could see something was wrong. Setting down his things, Halt placed a hand on his son's shoulder to get his attention. Conlan spun around and stood up at the same time. Realizing who it was, Conlan batted Halt's hand off his shoulder and took a step back.

"What are you doing here?" Conlan snapped, raising his cowl to cover his wet face.

Halt didn't answer, he couldn't really, he knew yelling at Conlan about Pauline wasn't going to solve anything, at least he knew if somebody yelled at him about a bad deed, he wouldn't cooperate or be nice about it and he assumed neither would Conlan. Though Halt was furious about it, he was positive that all he would accomplish if he yelled was a fight. Instead, he'd try and figure out what happened, and maybe even get Conlan back to the way he was. It was unrealistic and part of Halt knew that but what else was there to do? Pauline was possibly dead, Will was gone, Gilan wasn't here at the moment and Crowley, Crowley simply wasn't an option.

"Aren't you going to kill me?" Conlan said angrily though he was more curious.

"Why would I kill the only thing I have left?" Halt answered softly. Even if Pauline did survive, he doubted he'd ever let himself near her again.

"She's dead?" Conlan said, suddenly forgetting he was trying to sound uncaring and angry. Halt shook his head. Conlan, deciding he didn't care that much, crossed his arms over his chest. "Then why are you here? What? Are there guards in the shadows ready to jump out and grab me? Is…is Crowley there someplace ready to shoot an arrow through my heart?" he ranted, noticing his nose was running. Acting as if he were scratching an itch, Conlan wiped his face some.

Halt shook his head and grabbed his things, going to sit under a rather tall tree as he did so. Conlan stayed where he was, watching Halt carefully and convinced he was going to be dead in the next thirty seconds if he did anything out of place. Like go sit next to his father.

"Remember this?" Halt asked as he drew a beautiful mandola out of the case. Conlan recognized it immediately. When he had been younger, Will had taught him a few songs, Greybeard Halt included. Just to annoy Will, Halt had requested Conlan to play things, claiming he was better than Will. There were plenty of happy memories surrounding the instrument. Nights at the Gathering when Conlan had been younger, fires in the woods when Halt took him camping, and even a time when Conlan had gotten up at a dance to play Greybeard Halt, much to the annoyance of the Ranger. Conlan stayed silent and Halt sighed, he was beginning to feel a bit shaky and nauseous because his lack of alcohol or the tea but kept on as if he were fine. "You think I'm setting you up," he stated.

"Well why wouldn't you? I stabbed and possibly killed your wife! I…I ran off, I need to kill you, I even killed Will!" Conlan listed agitatedly. "Just kill me!" he shouted. At the mention of Will, Halt froze. Was this really Will's killer?

Conlan noticed Halt's change in position and sank down with his back against the tree behind him. Drawing his knees up to his chest, Conlan folded his arms over them and rested his head.

"You dunce!" Troy shouted inside his head. "Why would you tell him that?"

"I just want it over with," Conlan snapped angrily. He felt Halt's hand on his shoulder again but this time he didn't shake it off. Underneath his cowl, Conlan felt his eyes prickling and tears running down his face.

"What's wrong?" Halt asked simply though he was losing patience and his calm. Conlan stayed still, mumbling to himself, something that Halt found rather odd. "What's wrong?" Halt said more forcefully this time, shoving Conlan's shoulder back so his shadowed face was revealed.

"You!" Conlan snapped and stood up. "You made me run away and now you think that just because I've returned you can fix everything with a few words! The only reason you're even here is because you want to kill me!" Conlan raged, shoving Halt back in the process. Halt quickly pinned his son against the tree.

"I told you before, I'm not going to kill you," Halt said in a low voice. "If that had been my intention, why would I come unarmed and why are you alive at this moment?" he added. Conlan didn't meet Halt's gaze, the Ranger was right though. If he was supposed to be dead, it would have already happened.

"He's lying," Troy said, standing behind Halt. Conlan looked at him; he was done with it all. He was sick of this thing interfering with everything.

"Go away," Conlan said quietly.

"What?" Halt asked, a bit confused.

"Make him go away," Conlan said weakly. "He made me kill Will, I didn't want to. Just…just make him leave," he rambled, ignoring the fact that Halt couldn't see what he was talking about. Halt saw the tear tracks on Conlan's face and how his son was shaking slightly from silent sobs. He glanced over his shoulder. There was nothing there.

"Who?" Halt questioned, Conlan was murmuring to himself now and Halt was getting a bit worried.

"I don't want to kill you anymore," Conlan mumbled. "Please kill me. He won't leave! You don't have a reason not to! I killed Will…I…I killed Pauline-"

"She's not dead yet," Halt snapped but Conlan wasn't listening.

"It's perfect now; just slip that knife there into his gut. He's going to do the same to you. We can escape out of jail, we've done it before. As for Pauline, I don't think she'll make it through. Why not finish them all off? We don't have to look back," Troy prompted. Conlan tried to struggle against Halt's hold but failed.

"Just make him leave," Conlan persisted. Grabbing the knife from his sheath, Conlan forced the hilt into Halt's free hand. Halt simply looked at the blade then at his son. Conlan's eyes held pain and not much else as they flickered from Halt to Troy. Lips curled up into a snarl, Halt threw the knife into a nearby tree where it hit with a solid thud. He then released his hold on Conlan but kept his face close.

"I'm not going to kill you. That's the last time I'm saying it," he snapped. "Just tell me what you've done." Conlan looked away from Halt's gaze and looked to where Troy should have been. He was gone. But he'd be back. Oh yes, he'd be back. It was a fact and Conlan knew it. Swallowing past the lump in his throat, Conlan looked back to Halt.

"What's that?" Conlan asked, making his voice less quivery and trying to avoid the initial demand from Halt as he motioned to the sack at his father's feet. Halt resisted the urge to sigh.

_He's going through a lot_. _You can't get anything out of him when he's like this. Hell, you don't even want to hear anything right now._ Halt thought as he reached down to the sack at his feet. He picked it up, withdrawing two of the five bottles as he did so.

**Lame and most likely OOC ending I know but this was extremely hard to write. I sort of got myself stuck in a corner so I did this...please review**


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: I do not own Ranger's Apprentice or any of its characters**

Halt's eyes snapped open. There was no immediate threat he saw as he looked around the small grove of trees. Sitting up, Halt felt his head spin and resisted the urge to throw up. Morning dew surrounded him and he felt that his clothes were a bit damp. Light spilled in through breaks in the tree leaves and dappled him while birds chirped in their trees. Why had he awoken if everything was fine? Getting an idea, Halt stood and looked until he spotted a lump a few feet away from where he had woken up. No, it wasn't Conlan. There was certainly something wrong, he could feel it, like somebody close to him was…

Halt took off out of the grove like an arrow, leaving Conlan behind. His head threatened to explode with each pounding footstep but he couldn't care less as he rushed across the bridge and up the stairs in the castle. He ran into several servants, shoving them away without a second thought when he did. By the time he burst into the infirmary, he was sweating and panting like a dog. Lucas was grabbing things from his cupboard and spun around at the crash of the door bouncing off the wall. Seeing Halt, he hurried to the Ranger who was making his way towards Pauline's door.

"You can't go in there," Lucas said, smelling the alcohol that surrounded Halt. Halt looked at the healer with his bloodshot eyes. If he had given anybody else that look, they would cower back but Lucas kept his hand against Halt's chest.

"If she's dead-"Halt started.

"She's not dead, Halt," Lucas answered calmly though he had a twinge of worry in his voice.

"She's about to," Halt raged in a quiet voice, picking up on Lucas's fault in voice. Lucas didn't answer. "Let me see her now," he demanded. Lucas shook his head.

"I can't Halt, not when you're like this. You smell like you've been drinking, it wouldn't be wise-"

Halt didn't wait for Lucas to finish, opting to shove the man out of the way as he grabbed the door handle and entered the room. And how he wished he hadn't done that.

* * *

Conlan opened his eyes at the sound of rushing feet. Quickly he rolled up into a crouching position, looking around his surroundings for a threat. There was none and he before he could settle back down; he emptied his stomach on the ground in front of him. Groaning with the pain of movement, for head and body, Conlan shuts his eyes tightly against the light. Everything seemed to be spinning, even with eyes closed. Eventually he hauled himself up into a sitting position, rubbing his eyes as he did so. Halt was gone he saw but didn't think much of it. Standing up, Conlan grabbed onto a tree at the sudden tilting feeling. Head feeling like it was being used as a battering ram; he made his way out of the grove. The morning sun illuminated the river, making it glisten. Pausing, Conlan took in the feel of everything.

Ignoring his pounding head, slight nausea and conflicting thoughts, it was nice. Peaceful even as the river rode on by on its own schedule. In the distance he could see fields being tended to and Wensley village coming to life as the minutes got closer to midmorning. The clouds streaked out and floated lazily above as birds twittered in their trees. It was all so nice, so perfect even. At least, it was for anybody else besides a select few. Those that came to mind were Jason's family. They would still be mourning, he knew they would. It was as sure as the sky was blue. And Pauline. She was up in the infirmary dying and possibly already dead for all he knew. Adding to the list of people, Conlan came up with Halt. There were so many reasons that today wasn't nice for him. One reason being him, Conlan. He had done the deed of making sure today wouldn't be nice. For the past five years Halt's days hadn't been good because of him in fact. He'd left, causing a chain reaction.

As he watched a fish flit by in the water, Conlan found himself wondering what would have happened if he'd stayed. Would he be a Ranger or a knight? Would he be a prisoner? Or maybe a diplomat. Maybe if he'd stayed, things would have gotten better with Halt. Would he ever regret not running away? Or would he be happy he didn't? Maybe he would have run off to a farming family and be working the fields now. Halt would have surely found him and brought him back home. Would he want that? Was it even possible he'd still be alive? With this last thought, he realized he shouldn't even have been alive now. Conlan was still confused as to why Halt wouldn't kill him. It'd be a blessing really. And not only for him. Maybe when he was dead, people whom he had harmed would finally have nice days. Would they? It might give them some feeling of rightness, having the one person who had caused so much havoc in their lives to be gone.

Fighting back a few tears, Conlan started towards the castle at a determined pace. Maybe it would be nicer if he were gone, he needed to see something first though. As he strode through the courtyard, Conlan spotted Crowley who caught sight of him as well. There was no sense in trying to avoid the commandant as he came towards Conlan.

"Why am I still a free man?" Conlan demanded in a harsh whisper that sent his head throbbing. Crowley fell into step beside him as they entered through a door in the castle's side.

"Because I know your type. You're just going to break out if we shove you in a cell and I don't feel like going through all that trouble. I know you're going to stick around though. Whether it be to kill Halt or see what happens to Pauline, I don't know. I don't know what you'll do after she lives or dies either but I know that you won't kill anybody else. You know that you can't try and stay and get everything back. You committed murder and you'll have to face the punishment someday. You're pretty limited with options and you're like Halt. I know Halt and so I know what you're going to do. Or so I hope," Crowley explained as they reached the infirmary door.

Conlan looked at Crowley with a bit of anger and a bit of curiosity. Was he really that much like Halt that his actions could be predicted from Halt's best friend?

"I'm nothing like Halt! The only thing we have in common is that nobody wants us anymore! Just stop comparing me to him and trying to connect my actions with his! You have no clue what I'm like! Maybe I am going to leave; maybe I will kill somebody else! You don't know because I'm nothing like Halt! If I was Halt, then I would have killed me!" Conlan raged angrily. He may not have wanted to kill Halt but he still didn't want to be connected with him in any way.

"If you're not like Halt then why are you here to see Pauline?" Crowley replied, unfazed by the youth's apparent anger. Not waiting for an answer, Crowley swung the door open and entered with Conlan at his heels, glaring all the way.

**I think this will end in like two chapters maybe three or four. Please review:D**


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer: I do not own Ranger's Apprentice or any of its characters**

**Yeah! We got a four-day weekend! I'll try and see what I can get done**

Maybe it would have been smarter to stay drunk in the small grove of trees. Maybe it would have been better if he'd just killed himself when he'd wanted to after Conlan was gone and Will died. At least then he'd never have to see what he saw now. At least then he might never have witnessed any of this. Nothing could have prepared him to see this, it was one of those things battle after battle after battle couldn't get you ready for. Not even seeing Will's dead body had been this bad. At least when Will had come home dead, he hadn't seen the pain in his eyes. Now, however, it was different. Oh, so different. Seeing…her…Pauline…not his wife but his wife lying in a cot with blood staining her abdomen through the shift she was wearing with a portion cut open over the wound sent his mind into torture. She wasn't supposed to be like this! She was Pauline! She was supposed to be invincible; nobody would dare harm a hair on her head knowing he, Halt, backed her up! Hell, nobody would dare harm anything that was supposed to look so perfect! And if it wasn't bad enough, the person who had caused so much to go wrong and be wrong had been her own son!

Rage coursed through Halt's veins as he sat beside her, not knowing what to do. He felt tears well up in his eyes but dared not to blink. She wasn't supposed to be injured like this and he wasn't supposed to cry. Still, he couldn't help it as they spilled over. He was sober now, no doubt about it. Something like this could easily snap somebody back from the drunken haze of a hangover. Despite all that was here before him, Halt couldn't help but think it'd be better to be drunk. Maybe then it wouldn't hurt as bad now, because now it felt like a whipping. Five years he'd wasted his life. Five years he'd ignored her pleads for him to stop and her attempts to help him. Five. Damn. Years.

"Halt?" No, that couldn't be her voice. This voice was weak. This voice lacked authority. And this voice was tortured. No. This most definitely could not be _her _voice. This was the voice a dying man in battle might use, not one she should ever have need of.

Maybe he answered. He couldn't tell through the fury, guilt and anguish that tore through his being. Apparently he had, for her eyes fluttered open and she gave a very faint smile. But it wasn't a smile of happiness, it was a smile of pain and Halt knew it without a doubt. Halt's hand drifted to the blood soaked bandage and he dragged his fingers across it lightly as if he imagined the cut closing under his touch. No, that couldn't work. That would be too simple and if he had learned anything over the past few days, it was that nothing could be simple.

"He's back," Halt said just to say something. "Conlan," he explained and couldn't help how the name spit out of his mouth like it tasted foul. Looking away from her, Halt closed his eyes to regain control of his quickly gathering temper. The anger stopped and flowed downwards as a soft hand rested on his arm. "God I'm sorry Pauline," he muttered under his breath. There was no answer. Halt's eyes shot open almost immediately and he felt his heart pumping faster than it should have. "Pauline?" he said loudly so there was no chance of her not hearing. Unless she was…"Pauline?" he said again.

Maybe he said something as he started to shake her, for Crowley entered the room in a rush. One look at Pauline's lifeless figure and drained appearance, and he was at Halt's side. He'd never seen his friend cry. Not once had he been near to doing something of the sorts. Yet now Crowley saw tears in the corners of Halt's eyes and saw how he was shaking slightly. He was shaking Pauline and saying her name over in over as if he thought she was asleep and his eyes had a bit of madness in them.

"Halt," Crowley said, forcing his own grief to the side. Halt ignored him. "Halt!" Crowley shouted and grabbed Halt by the arm to turn him around. Halt didn't even bother to be angry at the commandant as he struggled to get free of Crowley's grip. One sniff told Crowley that Halt had been drinking and, despite his threat of leaving, Crowley knew he couldn't leave Halt now. "She's gone Halt," he whispered, looking into the bloodshot eyes. Halt stopped his struggling and collapsed back into his chair, facing Crowley this time. Crowley felt his own sadness seeping through his veins but remained neutral outside. Halt was taking deep breaths and the madness was receding somewhat but Crowley could tell he was far from over it. Placing a hand on Halt's shoulder, Crowley took a deep breath to steady his own voice. "Come on," he said softly. Halt stood suddenly, knocking the chair down in doing so. "Calm down," Crowley ordered before Halt could do or say anything. Anger clouded in Halt's eyes as he drew close to his friend.

"Calm down? You want me to calm down?" he said in a dangerously low voice. Crowley almost choked on the alcoholic smell about Halt but he had no doubt the man was sober. His bloodshot eyes looked furious and borderline on possibly insane. Not that Crowley could blame him any.

"Halt, I know it's hard-"Halt gave a short bark of laughter, something that stopped Crowley dead in his tracks. It wasn't humorous laughter though. It was a laugh one might give if they were losing their mind and struck by grief. It was as far from humorous as it could be.

"Yes Crowley, you absolutely understand how hard it is. Yup, I remember that time that your son ran off, came back and then killed her!" Halt said motioning towards Pauline. Crowley had seen this before in many men and he wasn't surprised Halt was acting so. There were two things one could do in situations like this. They could cry and drown in their own sorrow or they could react with violence and try and find somebody to blame. And Halt simply wasn't a crier.

"Halt," Crowley started hopelessly. Halt was tensed up as if he were unsure of what to do. Before he could continue, Lucas rushed through the door. One look at Halt told him most of what was happening.

"Conlan's at the top of the castle," Lucas said. Before he could explain any farther, Halt shoved past him and Crowley, heading for the door. Crowley followed in his friend's shadow, knowing that Halt might just kill his own son in his current state.

**Please review**


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer: I do not own Ranger's Apprentice or any of its characters**

Conlan looked down into the courtyard that was far below him and shifted a little on the ledge he was standing on. Heights had never bothered him, in fact, he quite enjoyed views from high up but even this drop made him shudder a bit. People were looking up at him now and he heard several yelling, perhaps they were going to get Halt. He didn't want that at all but he couldn't bring himself to simply fall yet. It was stupid, doing this, and he knew it but what else was he to do? He'd seen Halt's reaction to seeing Pauline and the only thought that came and stuck in his mind was the fact it was his fault. How many others had reacted the same way? Jason's family didn't even get to see him before he died, how were they fairing now? Conlan shook his head and closed his eyes. The wind whipped around him, stinging his cheeks and tousling his dark hair. His clothes flapped about and if this had been any other time, he would have enjoyed the feeling but now it didn't feel refreshingly cold. It felt like the cold that seeps into one's being in their final moments. When he opened his eyes, Troy was standing below him, back from the crenels Conlan stood on.

"This has got to be the most pathetic thing I've ever seen. Jumping from the top of a tower to try and die in a way so others will actually try and remember some good we were," Troy drawled. Conlan shook his head and looked away. He didn't have time for this. "You know this won't solve anything." Conlan glared at Troy.

"I'll be gone. That will solve enough," he answered curtly and shuffled a little closer to the edge.

"What will it solve? The fact that when you die everybody will curse your name? I suppose you have a point. If you die in a fight with anybody or simply die, everybody is going to be a bit happy and only ever speak of us when they tell of all the bad things we did. That or when they speak of all the lives we ruined. We've caused far too much trouble for anybody to feel otherwise. But if you die like this, killing yourself in dramatic fashion, I suppose they'll find some way to find something good we did," Troy answered calmly.

"You'll be gone as well," Conlan said, peering over the ledge. He couldn't think about it. Thinking about the sickening fall and then his body slamming into the solid cobblestones below would only make him back down. Before he could jump, there was the sound of yelling coming from the door leading onto the top of the tower.

"Well?" Troy asked. "Either jump or be talked down, we both know that that's going to be Halt and he's not going to be happy. When they do get you to not jump he's going to kill you. And even then if he doesn't, Tannor would have sent somebody out to find us. We've been gone far too long."

"Tannor can send whoever, they won't find me alive. They can deal with the matter of Halt," Conlan answered as the door to the top burst open. Halt took a few steps towards Conlan before Crowley grabbed him, preventing him from getting any closer. Conlan froze, if he hadn't been surprised by the sudden appearance of Halt, he would have jumped from the look he received.

"I should have killed you last night," Halt said in a low voice as he strained against Crowley's iron hold. The commandant said nothing; there was nothing to say really. Halt wasn't in his right mind but Crowley knew it'd be a mistake to let Halt go after Conlan.

"I'm fixing it," Conlan said and cast a glance over his shoulder. There was a small group gathered around where he was predicted to fall. All of them had their faces upturned as if waiting for his demise. The wind roared in his ears and Halt's answer didn't reach him. There was a dip in the wind's power and he heard footsteps coming towards him as he took his step forward into air. Fingers grazed his arm but he quickly fell out of their reach.

And just like that it was over.

The onlookers had turned away and flinched at the crunch. Only the bravest of the brave were able to bear the sight as they turned back around. Now they were gathered around the body like vultures over prey.

Halt spun around and shoved past Crowley with brute force before practically ripping the door down to leave. The walls and corridors rushed past him as he burst into the square. In a matter of moments he was shoving through the crowd who were trying to get a look at the crumpled body. The brave standing around the body stood to the side as they saw who it was.

Halt just stood there. Sure, he'd been ready to drive a knife through Conlan's head a few times but seeing this changed it. He'd seen people die, by his hand, at other's hands, from stupidity and from things like this but none of them he'd been close to. Sure, he'd understood it in the past but this was just plain wrong. A father shouldn't have to see his son's body lying at the bottom of a tower like this. It was gruesome in every way possible and he had to use all his control not to throw up anything left in his stomach. Realizing everybody was watching him and coming to the conclusion he wasn't ready to think through what was happening at the moment, Halt spun around on his heels. He was halfway across the courtyard when Crowley came running to him from the castle.

"Before you say anything, I know I can't know how bad this hurts. I do know that drinking won't solve it. Just go back to your room, I'll be there in a little while," Crowley said hurriedly. Though he wanted to go and grieve for the loss of Pauline, he realized that he had to get Conlan's body out of the courtyard first. Then he'd have to make sure Halt was okay, he could mourn later, now he needed to make sure nothing else happened.

"Just leave me alone," Halt said quietly as he turned and started towards the lowered drawbridge.

**Gah, I know this is terrible but I'm trying. I didn't think Conlan, being somewhat like Halt, would make a big big deal out of his jumping like talk to Halt and all so I just did that. This will end in a chapter or two so you can celebrate that. Please review**


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer: I do not own Ranger's Apprentice or any of its characters**

Rain poured down on Halt as he sat by the river, watching the muddy water race on. Not caring whether about what was happening, Halt left his cowl down. It only took a matter of seconds before he was drenched. Still not moving, Halt became increasingly aware of a presence behind him. Not that he cared much, maybe he'd get lucky and they'd put a crossbow bolt through his chest. Nothing happened and eventually Halt stood up, holding back shivers.

"Are you here to kill me?" he asked calmly as he turned around. It was hard to see the figure in the sheet of rain coming down. All Halt could tell was that the man was wearing dark clothing and had an impressive build.

"Where is he?" the man asked in a deep voice. Halt huffed and wiped his nose with a sleeve. He knew the stranger was inquiring about Conlan.

"Where've you been? He jumped, landed with a splat," Halt growled, barely keeping his voice calm. Fury danced in his eyes. Oh how he wanted to just jump in the river and be carried away, maybe he'd drown in the swift current.

"You're Halt?" the figure said, as if getting confirmation.

"If you're going to put an arrow through me I'd prefer it be now," Halt answered, getting rather agitated.

Without warning the stranger darted forward and sliced at Halt with a wicked looking blade. Instincts kicking in, Halt leaned back so the blade whizzed past him. Halt grabbed his saxe knife by the hilt, ready to fight back. What better way to get your anger out than stab somebody?

The stranger leaped at him again and Halt was barely in time to keep the blade from slicing his head off. He felt the tip graze his neck as he pushed back on the weapon, making the attacker take a step back. Ducking to avoid a swing by Halt, the man rammed his weapon upwards, succeeding in driving the knife into Halt. With a cruel smile, the man went to withdraw his knife. Before he could though, something sharp pierced his neck and his body went limp, falling to the ground where it was then kicked into the rushing water of the river.

Halt felt the pain flaring through his being, the origin where the knife was lodged in his stomach. There wasn't much bleeding as the knife acted as a plug but there was enough to be worried about. Drawing his cloak around himself and doing his best to ignore it, Halt started the slow and painful trek back to the castle. But not to find Lucas, or any other healer for that matter.

* * *

Crowley climbed the steps to the tower in a hurry. After getting somebody to clear Conlan's body from the courtyard, he'd begun his search for Halt. He knew his friend had left the castle but as the rain began to come down in torrents, the commandant suspected Halt may have come back. First he'd checked his friend's apartment, and then Pauline's and even went to Chubbs' kitchen to see if Halt was after wine. He found Halt in none of those places and drew a conclusion that the Ranger was ready to go like Conlan. By the time he'd reached the top of the stairs, Crowley was perhaps prepared for the worse. Opening the wooden door in haste, he burst onto the tower's top. The heavy downpour had turned into a drizzle by now. There was a sodden figure leaning on the crenel where Conlan had jumped from. Halt's head was down so he was looking at his hands that were clasped together.

"I'm not going to jump," Halt said before Crowley had a chance to speak. There was something wrong, Crowley could tell. A certain pain in his friend's voice and he was positive it wasn't from his recent losses. Crowley looked closer and saw that Halt seemed to be tense, like he was flexing, only he wasn't.

"Need anything?" Crowley asked as he started forward, something was definitely wrong.

"Conlan, Pauline, a nice drink would be good as well," Halt muttered in a forced voice. "I know you're behind me," he added and Crowley stopped his advance.

"I can't get you any of that," Crowley answered. "You're going to get sick if you stay out here. Let's go inside," Crowley said. Halt shook his head.

"No, I'm staying here," Halt argued in his strained manner. "Just go Crowley." That seemed to be his favorite line for the past few days. Only this time Crowley didn't listen. Taking a few more steps forward, Crowley laid a hand on Halt's shoulder.

"Halt, I'm not even going to try and convince you I know what you're going through because I don't. I feel Pauline's loss but not as much as you and I know that. But just listen. I wouldn't blame you if you jumped off this tower right now. I know that you want to be run through with a sword but it's not going to be like this forever," Crowley said. Halt gave a short laugh.

"No, it's going to be over soon," he answered as he straightened. Still avoiding looking at Crowley, Halt scratched an itch on his chin.

"What's going on?" Crowley demanded as he realized Halt's breathing was a bit ragged and shallow. He also realized how drained of color Halt was.

"Nothing," Halt answered and Crowley forced him to turn around.

From Halt's abdomen down he was soaked in thick red blood. The knife's hilt poked out of his stomach and Crowley had to jump into action as Halt began to crumple.

"What the hell happened Halt?" Crowley demanded as he caught Halt's full weight and struggled to keep him standing.

"It's over Crowley," Halt mumbled before everything went black.

**All right, that was terrible...and short...don't know if I should just end it here because I've come down with a lack of ideas, please review.**


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer: I do not own Ranger's Apprentice or any of its characters**

**This chapter is for SeekerMaxia who helped me with an idea of how to finish. I figured because she was nice and helped me, I might end it differently than I originally planned**

Crowley had to admit it'd been up and down since the day Halt had collapsed in his arms. He clearly remembered bringing Halt to Lucas, fearing the worse. Halt had been put in critical care for about a week after that, constantly fighting with Lucas when he tried to help him. Finally Halt simply gave up trying to fight it and fell into a secluded state. Crowley remembered going to him day after day and just talking about random things and eventually Halt began to return. Not as fast as Crowley may have liked but it happened. Today was the day he'd feared though. Halt had made it clear he didn't want to have a grand funeral for Pauline and he did want a burial for Conlan. Crowley had reluctantly agreed, coming to the conclusion that Halt was right. The only problem was he knew it would make Halt relive what had happened. He didn't want his friend going back under and possibly killing himself after this progress he'd made. Now that the small ceremony was over, Crowley stood by Halt, waiting for a reaction from the grim man.

"They used to love this clearing," Halt muttered. Crowley looked around; Halt had chosen this clearing specifically for his family to be buried. Autumn was coming and the colorful leaves fluttered to the ground in the light breeze. It looked beautiful and almost wiped out the grim atmosphere. "Taught Conlan how to shoot arrows here and proposed to Pauline here," Halt said quietly, keeping his eyes focused on the graves. Crowley stayed silent.

It felt almost surreal standing here looking at her grave. This wasn't supposed to happen and if it was then the rolls should have been switched. Halt couldn't help but think that he could have prevented it. Maybe if he'd tried to stop drinking things wouldn't have gone this way. She'd still be living and he wouldn't be standing here. He could still see her pale face and hear her strained voice from the day she'd passed when he closed his eyes. Then there was Conlan. He'd failed to forget the scene of his son falling from the tower. He could still feel with detail Conlan's shirt sleeve as he tried to grab his arm and stop the fall from happening. In dreams he was plagued with the image of Conlan squished against the cobblestones of the courtyard, not much more than a stain.

"Do you think they blamed me?" Halt said softly to himself.

"No," Crowley replied, Halt tore his gaze away from the graves to look at his friend. He hadn't realized he'd voiced his thought. "And they wouldn't want you to go back to drinking and thinking of killing yourself," he added and Halt merely nodded before looking back to the graves. Crowley shivered a little.

"You can leave," Halt said not unkindly. He had to admit it was chilly but he couldn't bring himself to leave.

"Only when you're ready," the commandant responded.

"I'm not a child Crowley, you don't need to watch me every second of every day," Halt answered. He didn't sound agitated, in fact he sounded a bit normal.

"You could have fooled me with that height of yours," Crowley joked, testing the waters. Halt may not react well to jokes yet.

"At least I could pass for a child, you're a bit too grey for that," Halt responded and Crowley grinned.

"I wouldn't be talking, if I remember correctly, there was a song named 'Greybeard Halt'. It was named so for a reason," Crowley shot back and held his breath when he realized he might have messed up mentioning that. The song was a strong reminder of Will. Halt simply turned to him with amusement in his dark eyes.

"At least I'm good enough to have a song made for me," he said. Crowley laughed.

"I've actually been working on a song for myself. I think it sums up my greatness quite well. I'd be happy to sing it for you," Crowley said and cleared his throat.

"Do you mean to torture me?" Halt asked as he turned away from the graves. He whistled for the horses that appeared from the trees on the far side of the clearing.

"I sing quite nicely according to Arald," Crowley said in a defensive tone as they mounted Abelard and Cropper.

"Yes, but Arald also claims his jokes are good," Halt answered as they tapped the horses' sides. Crowley laughed again.

"You got me there Halt, but I do have a nice singing voice."

The two drew nearer to the tree line, bickering all the way. Crowley rode into the trees without pause while Halt slowed and cast a glance over his shoulder.

"Sorry," he muttered and swung around as Crowley's voice reached him.

"Getting slow in your old age?" the commandant called teasingly.

Halt sent Abelard into a fast gallop so he'd be able to pass Crowley. It felt nice being back.

**And you all thought I was going to kill Halt! Well, you probably did...I don't know...please review**


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